Kiss of Life
by SuperSonic Violet
Summary: After a somewhat expected failure, a disheartened Hisana is left behind. Her artistic skills bring her a job at the Kuchiki Estate, where a chance meeting with the complex young lord leads to something stronger than they ever imagined. ByaHisa
1. Flower of Regret

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After a somewhat expected failure, a disheartened Hisana is left behind. Her admirable artistic skills bring her a job at the Kuchiki Estate, where a chance meeting with the young lord leads to something much more. "Love was what I felt when I loved you, but Life was what I experienced when you loved me too."

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything related to it. But this story, its plot and any original characters/locations created here belong to me. **

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**Chapter 1: Flower of Regret**

"Hisana-kun, I am regretful to inform you of the matter regarding your Zanpakuto spirit."

Hisana looked up from the small, pale hands she had folded in her lap. Her eyes travelled up, slowly, to look at the face of her calligraphy instructor behind his desk. "Lieutenant Aizen, I know that I haven't met the spirit yet, but if I could have just a bit more time…"

"Hisana-kun, I need you to listen."

Hisana nodded. She knew just why she was biding for more time, but not even Sousuke Aizen could understand it.

"We have entered the second year of your time at the Academy. In the second year, it is important that you show signs of at least having a spirit within you. Zanpakuto spirits are, after all, born with you. If the results have proven that you don't, early graduation in the first month of the second year will be considered."

Hisana's eyebrows lifted. "Early graduation?"

Lieutenant Aizen adjusted his black-rimmed glasses. "Well, to be honest, it is more of a discharge. Since you are fairly successful in at least two areas – Kido and Hoho – we have given you more time, which was this past month."

"Why couldn't I have been told last year?" she asked, the pitch of her voice rising as she became more anxious.

"We did not wish to pressurize you. Hisana-kun, you now have ten days to find or recover your spirit. If you do, you will be allowed to continue. If you don't…" he trailed off, looking down. "I am sorry, Hisana-kun, but the reason _I_ have told you was because you are more used to me, being your calligraphy instructor."

"Thank you, Aizen-sensei." Hisana's voice grew heavy as she tried to calm down. _I know the reason why I can't meet the spirit. I'm just a human – I don't think I've even heard of it before coming to Soul Society. _

"Being human-born doesn't change a thing. You had high reiryoku when you were human, right?"

"Well, I could see Hollows, but only vaguely. They appeared like blurs until I… died."

"I see. Well, there is another thing. Another way. You just need to agree, and you will become the best female Shinigami there is."

"You really think so, Aizen-sensei?"

"I know so, Hisana-kun." He closed his eyes, an almost content smile forming on his face. "I could arrange for you to have more time, and in that time, you will grow a spirit of your own."

_Where is he going with this? _Goosebumps rose on Hisana's arm; the atmosphere of the room felt suddenly cold. "How?"

"I cannot be specific, but it would require the use of a simple training object that is in my possession. With it, you could be guaranteed great power – that is, if you agree." He adjusted his glasses.

"Aizen-sensei, please, don't risk anything for me. I… I will try," she stammered when a wave of reiatsu nearly overwhelmed her. "I w-wi-_will_ think of something."

"Very well. Then I will disclose the rest." His polite tone was touched with something of monotony, but only for a single moment. "If you fail, you will be given the choice to remain in Seireitei or go back to Rukongai. Like I said before, your results show that you have succeeded in two areas. If you choose to stay in Seireitei, you must take up a form of service to make your permit valid – nothing involving being a Shinigami, unfortunately."

"Oh."

"Are you absolutely sure you don't need my help?" he asked, as though graciously urging her to reconsider.

"Yes, Aizen-sensei, I'm sure."

"All right, then may I at least recommend a suitable job for you in Seireitei?" His warm, welcoming smile returned.

Hisana tried to think of a polite way to decline. "But sensei, I-"

"Hisana-kun, don't worry. I am happy with your choice as long as you are. But I'm suggesting something else about another subject, something that I've helped you with from the start of your time here."

Hisana looked at him questioningly. The atmosphere had returned to normal again, but the mention of something like this was making her feel even more anxious than before.

Aizen chuckled. "I was referring to your calligraphy, dear girl. It's superb, and a career in art would be ideal for you. A student in the fourth year has handed me a print of yours, and it was spectacular." He paused and began stacking a heap of paper on the desk. "Of course, it _is_ only a suggestion."

Hisana smiled weakly. "Thank you, Aizen-sensei." She got up from her kneeling position and bowed her head in respect before leaving the room.

Outside, she bit her lip hard. A hot tear trickled down her cheek followed by another and another; her cheek was cold in contrast when she brushed the tears away with the back of her hand. She let out a small gasp as she cradled her head, leaning against the wall with her free arm. It would be best to just go back to her little room. It was the last lesson of the day, and she had been called out of it to go to her appointment with Aizen. Glancing at the clock on the wall above Aizen's office, there was only a few minutes left for the bell to sound; she broke into a run, occasionally using hasty and broken Shunpo, to get to the dormitories so that no one would see her crying face.

She released a long, stuttering breath she didn't know she was holding when she slammed the door of her room shut. Exactly two seconds later, the knocking of wooden bell sounded in the corridors. Her back slid down the door, her head ducking to rest on her drawn-up knees. Her arms released their hold on her legs and removed her sandals, flinging them in the corner. She looked up at the ceiling and rubbed her eyes.

_I have failed already. I have failed myself. I have failed my Zanpakuto spirit. I have failed Rukia – oh, Rukia, I should never have left you, and now it was for nothing. You could be sick, hurt, or even dead because of me. Why? How could I have been so stupid? I knew I could never be a Shinigami. It's all over now; everything. Once I am discharged, I'll try my hardest to come looking for you, even if I die trying. And if I don't find you…_

* * *

Hisana let out a shriek of inner anguish as she sat up with a start. Her thoughts had built up to a nightmare – a horrible, disturbing nightmare. Her thoughts. They had always been imaginative, insightful, creative. But ever since that night, they have been infected. The only thing keeping them under control was the aspiration to become a Shinigami, and now that it was barely possible, her dreaded thoughts were coming at her with full force.

She had fallen asleep at her spot by the door, and had been sprawled out before her awakening. Her forehead was moist with small beads of sweat and her neck hurt from leaning against the hard wood of the door. She heaved herself off of the floor; she felt heavy, her vision hazy from sleep. She went to the mirror in front of her small basin and looked at the ghost in the mirror, staring back at her wearily, as though it was sick of seeing her. She splashed her face with cold water, rubbing the clear coolness into her eyes. After drying her face, she leaned on the basin rim, taking deep breaths.

"Pull it together, Hisana. Just get through the night," whispered the ghost hoarsely. Hisana turned away and went to the bed, sliding under the covers. No matter how many comforting words she told herself, it only did so much to ease the sorrow clouding her mind.

She closed her eyes, recalling the events of that night; the night she had left Ru-chan…

_Inuzuri was humid, even at night, but it was still unforgiving. Just like the thing Hisana was about to do. She wasn't sure whether to trust the fickle old woman, Mrs Binbou, back in Central Inuzuri. She remembered that she had _won_ food from Mrs Binbou, who was skilled at scams – Rukia would have a better chance if she steered clear of this deceptive witch. The weight of her young sister on her left hip was making her walk lopsided. Hisana winced, the bruise on her arm throbbing. They had had another run-in with a bunch of thugs today. The gang of scoundrels had been attracted to the little floral haori wrapped around Rukia's shoulders. The two girls had gotten away – narrowly – and Hisana was bruised from the hit intended for her sister. _

_Now they were near the border, at sunrise, where a trailer from the Shino Academy was picking up possible students who would be taking the nerve-wrecking entrance exam shortly after their arrival. Hisana stopped in an ally next to a wooden house with steps leading up to the porch. She fell to her knees from exhaustion, only laying her sleeping sister down as gently as she could. She tightened the tattered blankets around Rukia and hid the last food ration inside. She laid one last light kiss on Rukia's forehead and stood up, beginning the last few steps to her destination._

_But the blankets stirred. "Sana-nee?"_

_Hisana bit her lip. "Go to sleep, Ru-chan, dawn will soon come. Do not wake so soon, love, enjoy the last of moon," she sang in a whisper. Hearing nothing for a few moments, she began to walk again._

_A muffled moan from the blankets. "Cold, Sana-nee, cold…"_

_Hisana willed herself on, shedding a tear. "Hush, Ru-chan, sleep now."_

"_Cold, _cold_, Sana-nee!" squealed the little voice of her two-year-old sister. Childish and small it was, but it was not high-pitched._

"_Quiet, quiet, I'm coming." Hisana stepped back to Rukia and wrapped her arms around the small form. Only two large, pleading eyes, the same shade of purple as Hisana's, stared up at her. She rocked the bundle gently until those eyes closed. _

"_I'm here, Ru-chan, I'm here." She sniffled. She was about to drift off to sleep when she heard the sound of wheels on gravel – the trailer was here, and now it was time to go. _

"_I'm sorry…" _

_She was off down the street, faster than she could manage. She flagged the trailer down, and was helped inside. She took a seat by a window, all the while fighting back the tears. All of the young souls in the trailer were asleep, but she stared out the window, the dirt-road streets illuminated with moonlight. Her weary eyes suddenly widened; there was a highly-pitched, yet faint cry – she thought it was her own name. Hisana shut her eyes tight._

"_Oh, Rukia…"_

_There was a new, sudden presence in the seat next to her._

"_You monster, you left her. You monster, you left her. You monster, you left her…"_

_Hisana frowned in disbelief, turning. This voice… "Who are you?"_

_It was Rukia's own voice, though with a ghostly, disembodied tint. A silhouette of the toddler appeared before her with a warm, green glow. "You have no soul. No feelings. No love. No…"_

"_What are you?" demanded Hisana desperately._

"_Fool, I'm the spirit of your Zanpakuto." Its voice was mocking and poisonous._

_She gasped and reached out. "Please, come to me. Let me see you-" _

_The form vanished. "NO! You are not deserving of my powers. You shall never see my face, fowl human, whether in real life or dreams. And you will never become a Shinigami," echoed its ominous voice as it slowly faded._

* * *

Morning came sooner than expected. A knock at her door awakened her; Hisana's eyes flashed open. Her dream had taken her far. In truth, she had forced herself to sleep on the trailer. However, what happened after she got onto it seemed to change according to her state of mind whenever she had this dream.

Although guilt hung heavy over her, Hisana did not have the same dream every night. The daily happenings at the Shino Academy protected her, shielded her, from these dreaded thoughts. She sat up and stepped off of her bare bed; with the constant tossing and turning, she had spared the maid an errand.

"Morning, Hisana-chan!" called the familiar voice of Isane Kotetsu, a fourth year student who Hisana suspected of handing the print to Lieutenant Aizen. Isane was a kind person, and sometimes felt the need to watch over Hisana like her younger sister, Kiyone, who was also in Hisana's year. Hisana rarely liked to be around Isane for that reason, and avoided her carefully.

"Good morning, Isane-senpai," greeted Hisana once she opened her door.

The tall girl smiled. "I'm here to deliver a message from Aizen-sensei. He says that you have the whole week off to think of ways to find your Zanpakuto spirit."

A pair of girls was walking past just as the words left Isane's mouth. They snickered audibly as they turned the corner; Hisana looked down. _So this is how humiliating it is to be the first one who can't find the spirit…_

"Here's the pass you'll need to exit. Good luck, Hisana-chan," managed Isane a little too brightly as she handed her a wooden armband, presumably the pass. She gave a small wave as she followed the same path as the girls – possibly to give them a lecture on tact.

Hisana's shoulders dropped. She was still wearing the uniform from the day before and looked positively scruffy. She went back inside her room and clicked the door shut.

"Think, think, think," she commanded herself. "Aha! The library. I could go to the library – no, there'll only be History books, and what if those girls are there? Maybe only if things get really bad…" She began to pace, fingering the armband. She huffed after a few minutes of pacing, and decided to visit a dojo in Seireitei, and since this was extremely important, she reluctantly decided to go to the library later on.

After a visit to the bathroom on her floor to freshen up, Hisana clipped the armband on her shoulder and touched up her hair. She had never been all around Seireitei, but on a field trip her class had visited the Heisha Meijin Dojo a few roads down from the Academy. Hopefully someone might be able to give her a few suggestions.

* * *

"Apologies, child, but we do _not_ hand out flyers on where Zanpakuto spirits hide," said the thin man behind the desk. His eyes had popped out from behind his small glasses once he had heard Hisana's question.

"Dojo-san, I was only asking if you knew someone I could talk to about this," said Hisana.

"Well, I most certainly do not. Oh, wait…"

"Yes?"

"You could go see a shrink. Just down the road. See him – and fast." The man nervously pushed his spectacles up his long nose before resuming the reading of the Seireitei Bulletin.

She planted her hand on his desk with a thump so that he could not see the newspaper's words. "I really need to talk to an instructor or someone experienced here. There is someone out there who needs me and if I can't get some advice or anything, I will have failed them. Do you know what it is like to _fail_, Dojo-san? Do you?"

The man looked taken aback by this short speech. He straightened up and cleared his throat, and got up from behind the desk. Hisana thought he was making a quick escape, but when he beckoned for her to follow, she felt herself dashing after him; this could be another window leading back to her hopeful self.

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**Author's Note:**

**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think :)  
The first two chapters will be here just to set you into Byakuya and Hisana's separate situations before they meet. The name of the chapter is based off of Rukia's name and its connection to the rue flower, which is the flower of regret… which is why it's 'Ru-chan'.**

**Just to make sure you know: Isane was chosen to be the 'kind soul' only because she has a little sister. And just so you'll stop laughing – if you have it's fine then :) – 'Dojo-san' **_**can**_** be used because she doesn't know the man's name. **

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! The next is featuring Byakuya-sama 3**


	2. A Tea

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything related to it. But this story, its plot and any original characters/locations created here belong to me.**

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**Chapter 2: A Tea**

"Byakuya!" came a vexed voice from the doorway.

Byakuya Kuchiki looked up from his scroll for a single second to acknowledge Ginrei Kuchiki's entrance. "Grandfather-sama?"

Ginrei Kuchiki, his voice unusually loud, was striding into the sunlit room leading off from one of the smaller gardens – the Sunken Garden, to be precise.

At the heart of this quaint garden, which was a dwarf in comparison to its enormous neighbours, stood a camellia flower sculpture made from pure, gleaming white sekkiseki stone. Its slender stem sprouted from the ground, climbing up with six leaves clinging around the stem in a spiralling pattern, before it reached the pure white flower at the top and erupted into a mass of fragile petals. The flower caught the glare of the sun, reflecting onto the thirteen small mirrors arranged at various places amongst the shrubbery; the weary light eventually reflected into Byakuya's current place of escape.

Ginrei frowned. "What is it that you're reading, grandson?"

Byakuya blinked at the colourful scroll before him and looked up. "It's of no concern. Now, what were you going to tell me?"

Ginrei's face looked even more stern than usual. "Is that a manga? From the World of the Living?"

"No, it is _not_." Byakuya huffed. He rolled up the scroll and threw it aside. "You were saying?"

"This afternoon, you will not be spending your time, closed up in this room, reading that _thing_ with young girls in short skirts and pink hair with cat ears. We might as well have Yoruichi Shihouin visit-"

"Grandfather-sama, please, do not call that abomination here," interrupted Byakuya in an almost desperate tone.

Ginrei raised an eyebrow. "You seem to enjoy her visits-"

"I don't."

"Very well. This afternoon you will be helping me review the applicants for the currently-vacant assistant artist job."

Byakuya was silent for a moment, Ginrei looking at him expectantly. "That was quite a mouthful," he said simply.

The elderly man sighed. "Byakuya, what will I do with you? When you succeed me as head of the Kuchiki clan, you cannot sit in this room reading rubbish all day."

"It is not rubbish; I am developing an understanding of humans. I've only been to their world a few times, many of them for insignificant tasks."

"You mean, an understanding of _women_. Who gave this to you anyway?"

"Captain Kyouraku."

Ginrei raised his eyebrows. "Ah," he said knowingly. "Tell me, does this have to do with your lack of a companion, grandson?"

"_No_. I've finished all of my duties regarding the Squad, so I decided to have a look at this… even though I have no deep interest in it."

"Good. Then I will see you in my study in one hour."

With that, Ginrei swept away, his captain's haori billowing after him. Byakuya stared after him for a moment. He imagined himself in that haori and scarf, sweeping around the Sixth Squad barracks. For the first time, the thought of himself exactly like his grandfather surprised him.

Today, Byakuya had finally decided to wear his kenseikan. He only wore these unique hair pieces that symbolized nobility whenever he left the estate. But now he needed to get used to wearing them. Of course, it was a choice to wear them – Ginrei chose not to – but Byakuya was preparing to show everyone that he was perfectly capable of taking over from his grandfather. He was no longer the young boy who erupted over the childish actions of others, namely Yoruichi Shihouin; though there was a lingering feeling of annoyance he held towards her ever since he was a child. Still, he no longer felt intimidated by anything or anyone. He had matured greatly.

People like his grandfather worried about him. His apathetic nature was increasing so everyday. Soon enough, he would feel nothing, they say. Byakuya ignored _them_; he knew he was capable of feeling. Everyone is.

But Byakuya could admit that he felt empty. His continuous training was paying off, and he was viewed by his grandfather as an excellent Shinigami. Now there was no more ambition left, nothing to fight for, no 'prize'. By the end of the year, he would have become the head of the Kuchiki clan – everything was being handed to him, much like a child. His future life was going to be quite a dull one, lead like a painfully boring routine.

Byakuya cringed. He rose from his kneeling position and smoothed his grey haori. He walked to the corner of the room and stared at the manga, lying next to the wooden shards that used to be Moku-Sakura, the makeshift Zanpakuto he had used for training when he was a boy. The dangerous splinters scattered around underneath the bright manga were the results of an angry outburst from earlier in the morning. He had found the staff in the hands of his aunt, who was reminding him of his youth, much to his chagrin. Once she had unhanded it and left, he had thrown it in the corner with such force that it shattered like glass.

"Kuchiki-sama, I have been sent by Captain Kuchiki to do some cleaning in this room. May I enter?"

Byakuya responded to the young voice behind him. "Yes, and I shall leave."

The maid was about to speak again from her kneeling position on the floor, but was interrupted by Byakuya.

"I have an appointment with the Captain. Do not save that manga. Dispose of it with the rest." With that, he bustled out of the room in a manner similar to Ginrei's. The nervous maid stepped aside.

Byakuya took note of her lime green hair. It reminded him oddly of the manga, and he could not restrain the wry smile forming on his lips.

* * *

"Greetings, Grandfather-sama," said Byakuya as he bowed at the entrance to Ginrei's study.

"Ah, you're early, I see. That means we shall finish faster, and then I would like to see a display of your Shikai." Ginrei was seated behind his desk, writing on and reading different papers.

"Have you not seen Senbonzakura before?"

"Yes, indeed I have. It will be like revisiting the days of your childhood – and there is definitely no harm in that, Byakuya." Ginrei put down his brush and surveyed his grandson.

"No, there isn't. But-"

"Grandson, why does there always have to be a condition? You are young, certainly not a child, but you are young."

"What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

"It is supposed to mean that I can see through your soul. Your feelings couldn't be more obvious."

"Well, if you know my feelings so well, tell them to me." _I could use some clarity._

"I know your situation. I felt the same when I was about to become the twenty-seventh head. I was not sure how to feel, so I began to take future responsibilities that I thought would prepare me. They did not, and in the process, I began to act similar to the way you are acting now."

_Future responsibilities?_ "And how is that?" asked Byakuya quietly.

"Rebellious."

"I have no thoughts of rebellion. I-"

Ginrei narrowed his dull eyes. "You have no thoughts, no feelings. You ought to be ashamed."

Byakuya clenched his teeth. His own eyes narrowed, and before he began to release his reiatsu greatly, he took a deep breath, turned around and walked out of the room as calmly as he could.

"Stay grounded on the earth, Byakuya Kuchiki!" called Ginrei after his grandson.

* * *

In the Sunken Garden, Byakuya knelt next to a fairly deep puddle of lucent rainwater, which was hidden beneath the surfaced roots of the great cherry blossom tree he sat under. This place in the garden was where he could feel himself relax, and was where he often conversed with Senbonzakura. Around him, the cold of winter was slowly changing to spring's lightness, but the petals of his prized tree still failed to blossom again.

He sighed. He had always looked up to his grandfather, and did not have the nerve to speak to him in the way that he had thirty minutes ago. But the captain's words had, for once, stung him. Byakuya clutched at the thin brass chain holding his haori to his body. The filmy, charcoal material slid to the ground, gathering around him. He stood and stared into the water, examining himself with painful detail.

"What…?" he stuttered.

The reflection looked much like himself, but the ghost of an angered face remained. _I don't understand. This is me; who I am. I… I don't like it._

"But then how…?"

His expression changed to puzzlement. _Ridiculous. I'm only confusing myself. _"Then I'll just apologize to Grandfather – and maybe Aunt Namae-sama," he concluded.

Byakuya cleared his throat and began the journey back to his grandfather's study. It was quite a long way from the Sunken Garden and now, while walking at a more controlled pace, he realized he must have made his exit faster than usual, maybe even using Shunpo. Once at the study, he was surprised to find it empty, with all of the papers from before sorted into three neat piles on the edge of the desk; only one document rested in the very middle.

"Byakuya-ko!"

_No… Please, no. _Byakuya felt a strong reiatsu beside him, followed by the light weight of a woman leaning on his shoulder. He turned around.

Yoruichi Shihouin's arm was hooked over his shoulder; she smirked. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Yoruichi, why are you here? Who invited you?" He scowled.

"Aw, no need to be petty, Byakuya-ko. Ginrei-sama said you needed some cheering up. So here I am! What should we do first?" She moved with her alarmingly fast Shunpo to stand on the opposite side of the open corridor, leaning against a pole, so that she faced him, a playful grin pasted on her face.

He turned around, fuming. "_Show you to the door_."

"We should play tag… I _know_ how much you like tag."

"No."

"_You_ know you want to, young one…" she cooed mockingly. She used Shunpo once again to come up closer and flick his ear, and then moved back a few more steps down the corridor, trying to coax him to play along and lose his temper.

Her teasing was definitely bothering him, and he tried hard not to fall for it. "Shut up, Yoruichi. I'm busy."

Her tone grew serious. "That is no way to talk to the Squad Two captain, commander of the Onmitsukidou, and head of the Shihouin clan… as well as Goddess of Flash." She wagged a long finger at him.

"Excuse me, Yoruichi-sama, but could you leave me at peace for now?" he said flatly.

"There's no fun in that. Kisuke is with me, too. Wanna-?"

Byakuya took a few steps away from her. "I mean it. Why don't you snack on some of our koi fish? There's far too many in our pond." He pointed to the pond in the middle of the Main Courtyard, onto which Ginrei's study looked out.

"Intriguing, but Kisuke isn't as partial to sushi as I am. Are you?"

"No, Yoruichi."

"Even if we put some spice on it?"

"Have you seen my grandfather?" demanded Byakuya, hoping for the subject to change.

"Hello, Byakuya-sama," came a quiet male voice.

Both turned to see a young, blonde man take a few more steps up to them with his captain's haori drifting in the air as though he had just used Shunpo to arrive.

"Wow, you certainly look different to the last time I saw you. Hair grow longer? New obi?" inquired Captain Kisuke Urahara. He released some breath, resting his hand on his head, continuing in a high-pitched voice: "Yoruichi-san, you beat me by a length!"

"Captain Urahara." Byakuya sighed; he was outnumbered.

"Kisuke." Yoruichi nodded at her friend. "We were just talking about sushi and old men."

Kisuke's head cocked to the side. "Without me?"

Byakuya rolled his eyes. "I'll leave you two alone."

"Whoa, wait." Kisuke stood in his path. "That's it. You're wearing kenseikan. How's it feeling so far?"

"Fine. My first day wearing it," said Byakuya slowly, taken aback that this question might be purely out of interest. _But then, he is nobility. Not the highest rank, but nonetheless, he is._

"He's got two, Kisuke. They'll match your future scarf pretty well, Byakuya," said Yoruichi, turning to him.

"Thank you," mumbled Byakuya. He was about to question them when he was interrupted by Kisuke.

"Come on, Yoruichi-san." He linked arms with the lean woman. "We're going to be late for the tea."

"Take care, Byakuya-ko," said Yoruichi, flashing him another one of her signature grins as they went.

_A tea? _Yoruichi had implied that she had met up with Ginrei before, and now she and Kisuke were attending a tea with him? Why had they not went with him right away, or did they really want to cheer up Byakuya? He admitted that the casual comments made about his kenseikan and future scarf had boosted his self-confidence regarding his upcoming succession to head of the clan.

His train of thought was interrupted by the reiatsu of his father around the corner. "Father-san?"

His father, Sojun Kuchiki, was the meek and respectful lieutenant of the Sixth Division, his skills in the four basic Shinigami areas were exceptional. He was a man of very few words, much like his father and son, though his soft-spoken nature stemmed from his natural timidity. Sojun also had a strong resemblance to his son, wearing a single kenseikan around a stem of his shoulder-length, raven hair. Light-hearted he is, yet a capable lieutenant too. And from the time Byakuya was young, he was one of the few people who cared about his son's deeper feelings.

"Byakuya." He nodded, with his usual hazy smile.

"Have you seen Grandfather or Namae-sama?"

"Your grandfather is at a tea with some captains. Best not interrupt."

"I see." _So this tea is private. Could my father be attending too?_

"Namae is in Kouga's old study," added Sojun, remembering the sadness in his younger sister's eyes.

"Again?"

"You can't blame her, son. Their anniversary is approaching. It's a hard time for her."

"Yes, Father-san. Thank you," said Byakuya, and began to walk again.

Now he was going to back to his bedroom. There was nothing more to do, seeing as virtually the whole clan was running off to some tea.

* * *

Hours later, Byakuya slid open his bedroom door and stepped out. Sounds of the night could be heard around him; the rushing of the little river that went past the garden in front of his quarters, the chirping of crickets, and the rustling of leaves as they were unsettled by the wind. Now it was time for dinner – hopefully that cursed tea was over. He saw his grandfather striding down the corridor, looking as if nothing had happened between them earlier on.

"Byakuya, I have some news for you," he said as he stopped by the sliding door.

"Well, is it about the tea?"

Ginrei blinked. "No. In your absence, I managed to select a new assistant-artist and a gardener. They will be arriving next week, and you shall be accompanying me to the gallery with this artist."

"What about the gardener?"

"The administrator can take care of that."

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. "What is so special about the other man? Can't the administrator do that too?"

"I would've thought that you knew my interest in art by now, the gallery being quite a special place. And the artist is a woman, might I add."

Byakuya's eyebrow dropped. "Yes, Grandfather-sama." He was going to lose this battle if he went on arguing.

"Let us go to the dining room now," said Ginrei, beckoning for Byakuya to follow.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Thanks for reading!**

**This is to show you how Byakuya's losing himself; losing knowledge of who he is as a person. That's because of his desire to become the head of the clan and that being the head might help him to believe that he has a purpose; that he is no longer young and incapable. At the same time he has an insecurity that the titles are all being handed to him – he thinks he is being **_**underestimated**_**, which he doesn't want. This is all the huge conflict within his character in this chapter.  
The reason for all of the facial expression is because I think he was different to how he is in canon, but you can see him **_**slowly **_**losing his emotions… it'll all change in a while ;)  
Namae Kuchiki, his aunt, and Kouga Kuchiki, his uncle-by-marriage, are from the Zanpakuto Unknown Tales arc, which is my favourite filler arc. (Namae is Kouga's unnamed wife, so I decided to give her a name and a role in this story.)  
And yes, Byakuya was reading a shoujo manga... I'll leave it to your imagination on which one it is :P **

**Hope you enjoy the next chapter!**


	3. In Just A Week

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything related to it… except for this story…**

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**Chapter 3: In Just A Week**

"Good morning, Hisana-kun!" called Isane from outside the small bedroom.

Hisana could not respond.

"Are you awake?" said the older girl more quietly, remembering to be sensitive and mature about this situation.

Behind her closed door, Hisana's face was blank, even more so than her troubled mind. She lifted herself into a sitting position and stepped off of the bed, slowly drifting out of it and going to the door. "Good morning, Isane-senpai," she whispered.

Isane's broad shoulders dropped, but two seconds later straightened up, trying to act normally even though she had no idea how to deal with this situation. "For the ceremony this morning, you are required to wear these robes." Isane handed a bundle of white to the younger girl. "…You also have to hand in your school uniform."

Hisana nodded slowly, unconsciously clutching at the sleeve of the crumpled uniform she currently wore. "Let me change out of this pair first."

"Of course."

She disappeared back into the room, closing the door gently behind her. Biting back the tears, she unwillingly removed the uniform. Her week had flown by with no luck on her side. _Maybe I should've taken Aizen-sensei's offer?_ Unfolding the white pile, she found new, black underclothing. _I see. This whole kimono is the opposite of a shihakusho. If _this_ doesn't tell me my place, I don't know what can… _She slipped on those thin robes. Then came the long white robe; it was long enough to be a kimono by itself, and she adjusted the collars so that they crossed paths with each other at her chest. The hakama were fastened with a black obi sash after being pulled over the shirt. The black tabi were pulled over her feet, and she was apparently allowed to keep her own straw sandals. Funny, the clothes fit her perfectly, but she had always pictured herself in black.

She sighed, going to the door again. "I'm ready," she said to Isane.

"Great. Uh, the school uniforms?" asked Isane awkwardly.

"Oh, right. Sorry." She went back into the room and gathered up her old uniforms, the only proof she would have used to remember that she was a student at the Shino Academy. "Here." Hisana reluctantly passed her the uniforms. "Am I allowed to wear my own haori?"

"They said they'll give you a special one at the ceremony. So, are you all packed, Hisana-kun?"

"Yes. I'm meant to leave my bags on the bed, right?"

"Yeah, someone's picking them up for you." A few moments of silence. "We should probably get to the headmaster's office now."

As they were walking, despite being in such a bland mood, Hisana could not help but feel grateful for Isane's company; although she had not liked it in the beginning, it was still quite comforting. "Isane-chan," she began, changing the 'senpai' honorific, seeing as she was no longer a student here, "did _you_ give Aizen-sensei the print I made?" Even though it was too late to attempt a decent conversation, it did not hurt to try.

Isane blushed, looking away. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine." More awkward silence. "Is this really a whole ceremony?"

"I think it's just a meeting. Nothing too scary." Isane paused and looked down. "I'm worried, though."

"Why?"

"This just doesn't seem fair!" she blurted. "Where are you going to go, Hisana-kun? What will you do?" She sounded more worried than she let on.

They stopped outside the sliding doors to the headmaster's office. Hisana bit her lip and looked at the other girl, seeing tears in her eyes. _She cares about me?_ She touched her arm, feeling guilty. "Isane-chan… Please, don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Sorry. I must look weak."

"You don't. One day you're going to be a powerful Shinigami – if I'm injured, I'll definitely come to you," said Hisana, with a reassuring smile, knowing how efficient Isane's healing abilities were. _Besides, I'm the one that's weak._

The older girl chuckled sadly, her cheeks turning red once again. "Good luck in there." She sniffled and rubbed her eyes.

"Thank you." Hisana glanced at a clock. "This is goodbye, Isane-chan. Classes start in ten minutes, and I won't be able to see you after that."

She nodded. "Goodbye, Hisana-kun." Taking her by surprise, Isane flung her arms around Hisana, crushing her in a big hug.

For a moment, they embraced uncomfortably, each shedding a few tears of their own. Hisana then realized how unkind she must have been to Isane, since this felt like parting with family; with a sister. It entered her mind once more. _Those big, violet eyes…_ Hisana broke away. "Thanks for everything. I'll miss you a lot. You looked out for me, and I really appreciate it," she said, trying to sound as sincere as possible even when she knew she did not. "Thank you, Isane-chan."

Isane smiled. "Please stop thanking me – you're going to be late."

Inside sat the headmaster, Lieutenant Choujirou Sasakibe, and her Zanjutsu, Kido, Hoho and Hakuda instructors, all on senza benches around a low, rectangular table. The headmaster was at the head of the table; then to his right came Gengorou-sensei, the man who instructed Zanjutsu, the art of wielding a Zanpakuto and the one whom Hisana feared the most; next to him was the Hakuda instructor, Miyako-dono, a young woman with black hair and blue eyes, one whom Hisana admired for her beauty; opposite her came the Hoho instructor, Kumofon-sensei, an aged man with black hair and a single white streak down the centre, one who had never acknowledged Hisana's existence; then came the giant Kido instructor, Hachigen-sensei, with his pink hair and cheerful, content smile, one whom Hisana had taken a liking to. Lieutenant Aizen, for some reason, was standing in the corner of the room, something hidden behind his back.

"Good morning, sensei," she greeted them all, bowing.

"Good morning, Hisana. Please sit down." The headmaster gestured to the empty senza bench opposite him. "Try not to be uncomfortable. We will be as brief as possible."

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"… and with that, I bid you farewell. Take care, girl!" called the headmaster after her.

Hisana was amazed. The information she had been given was… surprising.

"Overwhelming, no?" asked Aizen as they began the journey to the grounds.

"Yes, sensei – I mean, Aizen-san, it was."

"You were one of my most valued students, Hisana-kun. Please, continue to address me as 'sensei'."

"Yes." She fingered the collar of the new sleeveless haori she wore over her kimono. It was navy blue in colour, and tied with a thick, white obi sash at the waist, extending quite high from there until below her ribs. On its back, right in the middle, was the Kuchiki family symbol in white. Her day could not have been more… _surprising_.

"Sensei, how did manage to get this job? I- I don't remember applying – especially not to the Kuchiki clan… A noble clan has actually accepted me as an assistant-artist!" _There may still be hope._

Aizen chuckled. "I may have sent in an application beforehand. A week was definitely not enough time for you, so I felt the urge to help."

Hisana beamed for the first time in a while. "Aizen-sensei, this means so much to me. I walked into that office earlier on, having no idea what to do next. I was relieved when I found out about this job – it's a big opportunity. Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Hisana-kun."

"But… wasn't it meant to be formal, with a contract – the decision to stay in Seireitei or go back to Rukongai? I do remember talking to you yesterday afternoon, but…"

"No need to worry. I informed the headmaster the same evening. I suppose this meeting was referred to as a _ceremony_?"

"Yes, sensei." They arrived at the edge of the grounds.

"I noticed you seemed less afraid when you found out that it was a normal meeting, is all. Ah, we are here. There's your transport, Hisana-kun. Take care, now." He placed a hand on her shoulder, seeing her off.

She stepped inside the rickshaw, and was whisked away from the Academy; from the life she thought she would get to lead. It had happened so fast. When she had taken her seat in the office, time seemed to zoom by. Her instructors had each given her a review on her work over the two years. The headmaster had told her of her new job at the Kuchiki estate. Lieutenant Aizen had stepped out of the corner and opened a wrapped package to reveal the haori, which she had taken uncertainly. Then her mind had been a mixture of shock, excitement and relief. The headmaster told her all of the necessary rules to follow while in Seireitei and at her job. Her instructors left. Then she left.

And here she was. Hisana: from a large, crowded trailer to a small, private rickshaw – with a shelter, no less.

She leaned on the window and watched the whole of Seireitei rush past. The streets were so confusing. By now, she had left the Shino Academy and its familiar surrounding roads way behind. As they swiftly neared the Kuchiki Estate, the houses became larger and lesser in number. The rickshaw finally came to a stop outside a pair of colossal wooden gates.

The driver helped her out of the rickshaw and went to speak to the guard at the gates. Shortly, that huge wooden barrier began to lazily open, just wide enough for a petite person to fit through; Hisana stepped through quite easily. Once there, she was instantly ushered along the cobbled path to the front doors by a busy-looking man, who called himself "the administrator". There was another young man following him, except his belt was green.

Hisana could not restrain the tiny gasp that escaped her lips at the sight that greeted her at the front doors. On the doorstep was Captain Ginrei Kuchiki, current head of the clan, and his grandson, Byakuya Kuchiki, the heir. She felt herself slowing down her brisk pace, but was hurried along again by the administrator.

"No time to admire the garden, girl," he said with that nasal voice. Yes, the garden _was_ a gorgeous sight. On her right, she could see a little wooden bridge curling over a fleeting stream which eventually emptied into a pond, sparkling under the premature spring sun. There was a woman standing next to the pond, feeding the enormous golden koi inside – she was absolutely stunning. She must be a Kuchiki; her refined looks and posture told it all. To Hisana's left, shrubs and hedges were scattered here and there – being neatly trimmed by a few workers bearing green belts and straw hats – amongst sculptures of camellias. A few of the gardeners looked up as they passed. "Girl, I _said_ that there was no time to waste. Come along now." The administrator flapped his hands impatiently.

"Sorry." Hisana scrambled forward to catch up to him, the new gardener grinning at her beneath his straw hat.

They arrived at the front steps. "My lords," said the administrator, bowing low. "I will be escorting the new gardener. This woman is the new assistant-artist. Her name is Hisana… er, just Hisana." He gestured to Hisana, who had her head bowed too, wondering why he had referred to her as a woman this time.

"Thank you, administrator," said Ginrei Kuchiki. "Follow us, Hisana."

She looked up, just in time to see Byakuya Kuchiki's grey eyes drift away from her much too slowly; a shiver chased down her spine. She scurried after them, feeling her cheeks heat up. Her temples were beginning to glisten with sweat as they weaved through the many corridors. Ginrei and Byakuya were both striding at a calm pace… but still much quicker than hers. The elderly man also seemed to be emitting strong reiatsu – which did not help her pores – but she was very unsure of his grandson.

Abruptly, they came to a stop outside a pair of circular blue doors; the same shade of blue as the haori she wore. Ginrei produced a rectangular white key from within his shihakusho. He stepped aside so that Hisana could see him inserting it into a slot; after a moment the Kuchiki symbol on it flashed a navy blue. _Click!_ Ginrei slid open the doors. Through these doors, the walls painted white had an ethereal glow. Hisana felt herself release breath she did not know she was holding.

The gallery.

"Welcome to your place of work, Hisana. This is the gallery. On the wall here-" Ginrei pointed "-you will find a map of the place. The corridors are confusing at first. And here is your access key." He handed her the key without so much as a glance. "Do not lose it."

"Yes, Kuchiki-sama," she said nervously.

"Come. You are required to meet your partner, the head artist, Nikugaki." The two men swept off in a direction to the left, Hisana resuming her previous scurrying. _Did they rehearse this?_ They rounded many corners, walking down plenty of corridors. _How large is one gallery?_

"Nikugaki," said Ginrei at the open doors to an office crowded with scrolls, empty boxes and cluttered shelves.

Suddenly – much to Hisana's surprise – a pile of scrolls lifted, revealing a wiry but short man with tan skin and curly brown hair, which perched on top of his head like a nest. Looking up, Hisana saw an utterly hopeless expression on Ginrei's face, which made her want to laugh, and a grimace on Byakuya's face as he shifted his weight onto his left foot.

"My lords! Such a pleasure to see you. Is that our new artist? How exciting!" bleated Nikugaki in a single breath, before bowing to each of them.

Ginrei cleared his throat. "Yes, her name is Hisana. I would like for you to show her around."

"The gallery or the estate, Captain?"

"Both. But remember the restrictions put on artists… Can I trust you, Nikugaki?"

"Of course, Captain."

"Good luck on your first day, Hisana," said Ginrei. "Come, Byakuya."

Ginrei turned to leave. As Byakuya followed him, his sleeve brushed Hisana's. She could not figure out why she felt her ears burning. Maybe it was because he had looked at her again with that same unreadable expression as when she had just arrived, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Or for some odd reason she found her arm tingling in the area his sleeve had brushed over. She blinked her eyes, turning away from her thoughts, to find Nikugaki scowling at her.

"Hisana. You have been asked to make a print. Another one. Proving your worth," he said in broken sentences.

"…Oh, yes, Nikugaki-san. What must they be of?" she asked.

"How am I to know?" he snapped. "You could choose a tree, a tower, a tortoise… Learn to think independently. That's how you survive in this place."

Hisana frowned. _Wasn't he in a good mood just two seconds ago? _"Wha-"

"I'm not finished. Before you properly start work, let me lay down the rules. No direct contact with any residents here. No walking around where you're not meant to. No loose hair." He walked up to her and flicked her short blades of hair. "And any art you create goes through me. Got that?"

She was gaping. "Wh-why are you so moody all of a sudden?"

"It's called good leadership."

"But I don't know where I'm meant to walk around! You're supposed to give me a tour!"

"I am a busy man, Hisana. Leave me be."

"Are you chasing me out?" Hisana couldn't believe what was happening in only ten minutes.

"No. I'm ordering you to leave my office. And before you go, take the supplies for your print."

She narrowed her eyes and walked to a shelf. She grabbed a few paint jars, brushes, and blank paper. As she was about to go, a tall woman with ginger hair stood with her hands on her hips at the doorway, blocking it.

"Gaki-kun!" she scolded. "You're chasing this poor girl out already?"

"Actually, I ordered her to go."

"What's your name, girl?" she asked turning to Hisana.

_Why is everyone calling me 'girl'?_ "It's Hisana."

"My name's Hanabi. Nice to meet you, Hisana." She spoke with an affected tone.

Hisana smiled weakly. "You too." She glanced at Nikugaki. "Um, Hanabi-san, could you give me a tour of the estate?"

"Of _course_. But only the areas you can go to, Hisana-_chan_." She placed her arm around the younger girl, unnoticeably making Hisana her friend. "I'll show you the staff cafeteria and the dormitories. For now that's all you should need."

The woman named Hanabi walked Hisana out of the office – _dragged_, more like it. Before she knew it, they had winded through the gleaming white corridors and stood outside the gallery's blue doors. As they slid shut, Hanabi released hold of Hisana, and they now began walking at a normal pace.

"I'm sorry about my boyfriend, Hisana-chan. Nikugaki feels a little threatened by your artistic ability."

"Boyfriend?" _But Nikugaki is so… so… stingy._ "How do you know he's threatened?"

"I can tell. It happened with the last guy at your position, but he's gone to another clan now. That, and while everyone praised your print, he pretty much threw it aside… Hmm, we should go on to the dormitories, before anyone suspects us of slacking."

"Oh, yes."

Hanabi chattered incessantly. Apparently, she was from the second district of Rukongai. She applied for this job to help her large family. As a maid, she was stationed at the gallery, working there everyday, cleaning and cleaning so the walls could shine like they always did. She was obviously a normal soul, not a Shinigami, but the maid's uniform – a plain, solid blue kimono in the same style as Hisana's – hid any possible clues. And she wasn't as friendly with the other maids, since they accused her of gossiping and breaking rules. She then met Nikugaki, a "sour old raisin", and they decided to be together because she made him want to be better – _It obviously isn't working for him_.

"…And it's funny, 'cause I never see him eating the raisins, but… I can just tell." Her cheeks pinked as she giggled.

Hisana cringed. "How nice for you two." She most certainly did not want to know the details.

"So now you know my story. Tell me yours." She directed them around yet another corner; now they were going towards a building outside the main mansion on a wide, gravel path lined with tiny stargazer lilies wedged between white stones. The stretch of land here was otherwise plain besides the trees with thick trunks, bunched around the lawn in abundance. It was like a miniature patch of woods, but on the same grounds as the main mansion.

In truth, the woods did not scare Hisana. They were kind of cozy, almost – when she was human, she had quite enjoyed the outdoors. Oh, how she longed for the simpler times, when she could just go outside without the fear of-

"Hello? Earth to Hisana…-chan." Hanabi waved her hand in front of Hisana's eyes.

"Huh?"

"C'mon, you have to have some kind of story."

"Oh, well, no offense, but I really don't want to talk about it." When Hanabi frowned, she sighed. "It's long and complicated."

Hanabi groaned. "Fine, but you _will_ tell me eventually."

They climbed up the stone steps and onto a porch covered with an awning. A few senza benches were in groups of three on either side of the open sliding doors. "Um, shouldn't we go inside?" asked Hisana when they had stopped, standing there expectantly.

"Yes, yes."

She walked through the doors and spread her arms out in a huge gesture. Inside was a large lounge area with low, plump, neutral sofas, also in groups of three but in four parts of the room. An empty fireplace was built into the plain western wall – a chimney flew up towards the sky outside – and the floor was pale and wooden with a rippled texture. The rest of the walls had many decorations upon them; maps of Seireitei, Soul Society and places in the Human World; posters of Shinigami – mainly Captain Ukitake – done by the Shinigami Women's Association; clippings from the _Seireitei Communication_; and, much to Hisana's delight, a few paintings. Although quite a crowded room, it was large and cool, with a light breeze floating in, through the line of open windows on the east wall, bringing with it the fragrance of flowers outside.

"You have to admit, these nobles take care of their workers," commented Hanabi, beginning to move towards a simple wooden staircase that ran along the northern wall. Pinned on it was a small bulletin board. She ran her rough, red fingernail along a single sheet of paper, seeking out a certain name. "Here you go! Looks like you're sharing my room, Hisana-chan." She beamed.

"O- Oh. Does everyone share?"

"Yeah, don't worry. The male staff live in the building across the pond, next to our yard. It's my luck that Nikugaki sometimes talks to me outside my window when he's free – and that's only when he's going to work… or coming back from it. But not all the time, no, since he's always busy." She shrugged, and the expression that flickered across her face made Hisana feel sorry for her. "I think the new gardener is his roommate." Normal, sugary expression once again. "Hey, you should totally…"

Hisana's mind drifted off as Hanabi began another pointless speech about Nikugaki. The supplies in her arms began to feel heavy as she thought of what to create with them. Along the way, she had found those trees lining the pathways interesting. Winter was coming to an end in Soul Society, the drab leaves slowly regaining their colour. It would be perfect to paint the print now in the afternoon, when the sun shone hazily, giving the leaves the faintest of glows.

"Hanabi-san?" she said, deciding to interrupt.

"Hmm?"

"Can I go to the room now?"

"Why? Is it 'cause of me?"

_A little bit._ "No, no. I need to start this print."

"Okay then… Dang! Now I remember – there was this stupid smudge on the gallery floor that completely wasn't my fault! See ya, Hisana-chan. I gotta go!" She ran across the lounge, stepping over some sofas on the way, and out of the building.

Hisana breathed a sigh of relief. This outgoing woman spoke an awful amount. Hisana preferred to keep to herself; what could she find to say to a person that was so… personal? Then she realized that she had no idea where the room was. Walking over to the bulletin board, she found that her room was on the third floor. Making her way up the stairs, Hisana noticed that she was the only person in these entire two buildings. She could not hear, see or feel anyone else's presence.

Opening the door to the room, she instantly knew what a challenge it was going to be while staying with the talkative maid. The entrance was narrow, and opened out into a big room with two single beds each against the east and west walls; the east bed was vacant. The room smelled strongly of honey, sake and polish; the window was closed tight, not helping at all. Posters of muscular Shinigami – more obscene than the ones downstairs – covered the wall, and kimonos in almost every shade of pink were scattered on the floor.

Hisana wrinkled her nose and huffed. Her job was definitely not that of a maid's, but she set down the art supplies next to her waiting bags on the opposite bed and began scooping up bundles of kimonos. _Isn't Hanabi meant to be a maid?_ There was a neatly-folded note on her bags, but first she would have to deal with this.

There was another singular door built into the wall behind her; the south wall. _Hopefully the bathroom isn't worse…_

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**A/N:**

**Thanks for reading – and for your reviews! Special thanks to Arienna Natalitha, who was the first to review, and to my friend, The ixoxo, who is an awesome advisor... and for the hat she got me for Christmas - it's just like Kisuke Urahara's! **

**Those questions few dare to ask: What does the note say? What was Hisana afraid of in the Human World? What are the reasons behind Nikugaki's dislike for Hisana? Why was Aizen so eager to get rid of her? Why is Byakuya, of all people, staring at Hisana? *gasp* And why can't she feel his reiatsu? Find out in the next episode (chapter)…**

**Well, that was a lame attempt at one of those cliffhanger things… but I did want you to notice them!  
Gengorou and Hachigen are**** characters in the series (you probably know that). Miyako Shiba, Kaien's wife, was also Hisana's instructor, and you can probably see that Hisana and Rukia are sisters with the shared opinions and power levels etc. The only thing is, Hisana was born a **_**human**_**, and that's the only hint I'm giving to her past for now – I may have already mentioned it… The Kuchiki woman by the pond was Namae. You also probably know this, but sake is alcohol. Senza benches are used to sit on in a kneeling position and you can hardly see them sometimes; in the third ending theme, Hisana and Byakuya are seen sitting like that :P Tabi are traditional Japanese socks worn under their sandals. Oh, and I chose the First Division lieutenant to be headmaster because Yamamoto is… just too important, I guess. I also recommend keeping an eye on Hisana's Hoho instructor…**

**Final cliffhanger question: Is this story going to get a little fluffy later on? Hm, possibly, but remember, Bleach ain't a shoujo. There's a mystery going on in the Kuchiki manor, and our dear Hisana is about to get caught up in the very middle of it...**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter: the **_**formal**_** introductions take place :)**


	4. Spring

**A/N: **

**Welcome to the fourth chapter! Ulquiorra's number. :3 **

**I have a feeling most of you are angry with me – just leaving you hanging and the romance isn't there properly yet… I must have proofed this chapter one hundred times now, so I just hope it's all right. See, I've been trying to continue with my other fic just to get it over and done with (even though that's not working too well). I've been on hiatus (obviously) and still will be, but I'd like to leave you with **_**something**_** at least… so you won't have to wait long for Chapter 5. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything related to it.**

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**Chapter 4: Spring**

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Byakuya opened his eyes, responding to the rising sun. A warmth and haze was spread over his large yet plain bedroom, telling him that today was the first day of spring. At last the days of dripping frost and biting wind were over. He rose and shielded his grey eyes from that brilliant sunlight, lifting the white covers and stepping out of the futon before flexing his arms. Hopefully today would be better than yesterday.

After they had escorted the woman – Hisana was her name – to the gallery, they had went to the hall. A religious sage from the Spirit King's dimension had come to give a presentation of some sort, talking about the old culture and history of Soul Society. A few of the other noble clans had attended, including the Shiba and Shihouin clan. It was a great honour to host someone from the Spirit King's court; the Kuchiki clan was chosen for their responsibility over the records of Soul Society.

An honour it was, but not the most exciting one.

While he freshened up, Byakuya thought about the drawling speeches, lamented by the sage, of the ancient myths involving reiatsu and reiryoku – goodness, he was not even sure why he was still thinking of something so trivial. Afterwards, he wove his inky black hair into his kenseikan; he had long given up on those ridiculous hair bands, even when he was not wearing the intricate hairpieces. After tying the white sash of his shihakusho, he tugged on a faded green haori and left his chamber, headed for the room leading off from the Sunken Garden.

As he strode through the corridors which were gleaming with the morning sunlight, he passed Kouga Kuchiki's old study, where Namae was sitting behind the low desk upon a senza bench. She was indeed an aged soul, being on rather good terms with Retsu Unohana from when they were infantile souls, but like her friend, she appeared quite young. Her chocolate brown hair was worn loose, with only the top layer woven around hair ornaments. Today she wore grey forget-me-nots – but was she not wearing those yesterday, as well? Looking at her delicate face, smeared with weariness, Byakuya understood. She had spent the entire night in the study, with that thin blanket over her shoulders.

"Namae-sama?"

As if being jolted from a trance, she looked up from the white kenseikan in her hands, red hair still caught in it. "Byakuya? What brings you _here_?" she said softly.

"I was passing by. Are you all right?"

"Yes, thank you. Today…" she drifted off.

"I know. I'll leave you now," said Byakuya. He was not sure what to say, so it would be best to make his exit. He had already given her a sincere apology last week at dinner for his behaviour, but now she needed to be alone.

And again he was making his way to the Sunken Garden, only a courtyard away. But when he arrived at the door, he could have sworn he felt a reiatsu inside. He had not felt it very often, but could recognize it easily; though when he tried to sense it again, it was as if his ability to sense reiatsu had been fairly muffled. He slid open the door, only proving his theory to be correct. "Who are you?" he asked, making sure it was her.

She jumped a little, her back to him. She was holding a large paintbrush, stroking it over the large sheet of parchment on the floor. She began to turn around. "I'm Hisa…" she drifted off, recognizing the man at the door. After a moment of stunned gaping, she dropped the paintbrush and scrambled to her feet, bowing her head. "Apologies, Kuchiki-sama, my name is-"

"Hisana," he finished. "I know."

Hisana nodded, biting her lip in her bowing position.

"You're the artist from yesterday?"

"Y-Yes, Kuchiki-sama," she confirmed with a stutter.

Silence.

"What is it that you're painting?"

"Calligraphy, Kuchiki-sama."

He stepped into the room until he was standing right next to her, looking down at the elegant letters. "It's beautiful. You have a lot of talent," he commented honestly.

She had turned around beside him to look at her work, making sure to keep her head tucked. "…Thank you, Kuchiki-sama."

Looking down at her, he could see her ears pinking darker than her cheeks. He looked back at the scroll, smiling to himself. "Please, rise," he finally said, deciding her bowing form must be uncomfortable. She rose to her full height; it only reached up to his shoulder. Once again, his grey eyes surveyed her, noting she had her hair pinned up with a navy blue clamp, only her frayed fringe hanging between her eyes. "I'd like for you to teach it to me."

She turned to stare at him in shock, but when she did, her gaze locked onto his. Her iris-coloured eyes widened, and she averted her gaze to the ground. Her cheeks became an even more violent shade of pink; he smiled again – this time openly – and looked away, straight ahead. She cleared her throat quietly; she had to provide an answer, of course. "As you wish… Kuchiki-sama," she uttered, her voice shy.

"Mm," was all he said before sweeping away, the disturbed air rushing over her.

Outside, he was trying to figure out what had just happened. Spring must have settled in on his mind, too. He had definitely been _thinking_ of doing that, but could not arrive at the answer as to why he had. The words had just come out; to ask her to teach him traditional calligraphy. But as the future head of this clan, he felt could not regret his actions, and did not even try to do so.

Then he realized something. How had she gotten into the room? It was not that he minded, but who had told her to? This was the answer that he could arrive at now: Ginrei Kuchiki.

Any ordinary onlooker would have seen a pale, young man in deep thought, his long forefinger pressed to his chin. They would have seen him look up, as though coming to a conclusion. They would have seen a sudden flash and the sound of whooshing air as the young man moved at the speed of light. But they would have thought he disappeared, instead of moving with his advanced ability of shunpo.

Byakuya moved with ease through the halls of the manor. His grandfather would be making his way to the dining room; breakfast was going to begin quite soon, and Ginrei was always more than punctual. He halted himself at an angle when he arrived at the door of his grandfather's bedroom, of which Ginrei stepped out at that very moment.

"Good morning, Byakuya. I see you're up early. Your reiatsu was moving quite quickly," said the aged man. "It's good to see how your abilities have improved."

Byakuya narrowed his eyes. "Good morning, Grandfather-sama."

"What is troubling you?" said Ginrei, lazily noting his grandson's expression.

"The assistant-artist." Ginrei began to walk, and so Byakuya followed beside him. "I know you sent her there to work on purpose."

Ginrei sighed. "Don't be paranoid, Byakuya. It isn't healthy, especially for the future clan-leader."

"I am not upset, Grandfather-sama. But I would prefer if you admitted it."

"Ah, good. Your temper is under control, and that means you are improving."

_That still doesn't answer my question._ "Well?"

"Yes, I have sent her there. And now you can be more focused."

Byakuya's face eased into something of a smirk. "Actually, Grandfather-sama, I will be spending more time in that room."

The older man's calm expression wavered for _just_ a second. "In the same room – by the Sunken Garden?"

"The very same." Byakuya's smirk deepened. Ginrei nodded once expectantly, prompting Byakuya on. "She has agreed to teach me calligraphy," said Byakuya airily – or at least as airy as he could manage.

"Calligraphy? Your writing is perfectly fine."

"I am not learning to write; I wish to cultivate my interest. Why, Grandfather-sama? Are _you_ not a member of the Calligraphy Society yourself?" The grandson was secretly delighted to be winning this argument.

"The president, of course," answered Ginrei. "But I did not think you _had_ such an interest."

"It seems that I do," said Byakuya, complete with a shrug.

"Very well." Ginrei sighed once again. "Let us go to breakfast, then."

And so the argument was won.

* * *

Breakfast had been a quiet, tedious affair. Everyone was still worn out from the night before, but as usual, very little words had been exchanged between neither the immediate family nor the elders. For the whole duration Byakuya had been distracted, still thinking about last week's tea. There was something going on, something the captains of the Gotei 13 did not want anyone else to know about. Could the lieutenants be involved too?

These things ran through Byakuya's mind as he walked further and further from the dining room. Ginrei did not often invite outsiders to the estate, nor would he try to hide it from his grandson… But then an odd sight halted his thoughts: his grandfather was talking to the assistant-artist, handing her a roll of parchment yellowed with age, her head bowing as it had earlier on. Byakuya darted towards them – he _knew_ his grandfather would not use someone specifically to spite him. There might be another motive for her to not work in the gallery with Nikugaki.

"Afternoon, Grandfather-sama, Hisana," he said coolly, his eyes reluctantly tearing away from her to look at his grandfather.

Ginrei nodded in acknowledgement. "Artist, you will paint the flowerbeds and the greenery in the Sunken Garden – basically the majority of it. Be sure to include the insects, especially the stinging ones. Dismissed."

"Yes, Captain Kuchiki," she said with a nod, leaving Byakuya and Ginrei alone.

"What was that about?" demanded Byakuya when she was out of earshot.

"That's not very polite, Byakuya."

"What do you expect? You refuse to tell me of anything that is going on with the clan or the squad."

"Some topics are best left untouched."

"I am the future head of this clan – I have the right to know."

"Is that the only reason you can find to make me divulge? Well, it isn't very promising."

Byakuya's wispy brow creased, his eyes unusually widening. "Not promising?"

"Calm down, calm down," said Ginrei, as he began his explanation. "It seems I have to remain captain of the squad for another period of time, but you will still be head of the clan."

"Why?"

"Have you achieved Bankai yet?"

"I see. So that's the reason why I can't be captain."

"So you haven't achieved Bankai, then?"

"No, but I _am_ getting there."

"Excellent. Take your time, grandson."

"I plan to. But I don't want to become a captain with a pathetic Bankai, and neglect my training just because I think Bankai is all I need… I want to develop my Bankai and learn more special abilities."

Then Ginrei did something he had not done for a long time. He lifted his arm and placed his hand on Byakuya's head, pressing down lightly on his kenseikan. "I am proud of you, Byakuya," he said.

Byakuya was surprised. His grandfather used to do this when he was a child, and for a moment he was a hot-headed young boy again, his hair loose and untidy and a polished Moku-Sakura gripped tightly in his scrawny hand. And his grandfather would chastise him, trying to calm his temper, reminding him that if he would just calm down, he might improve. After those practices, they would have a steaming cup of tea together or walk around the squad barracks. His grandfather was his role model.

Rushing back to the present, Ginrei removed his hand and moved past Byakuya, so that they were side-by-side, facing opposite directions. "And that is what we discussed at the tea."

Byakuya felt a rush of air as his grandfather used shunpo to make an escape. He sighed. That hasty exit made him wonder how true the previous statement was. _I'm _sick_ of thinking about that tea. _He pinched the bridge of his nose and made his way to the Sunken Garden. Hisana had been given a scroll by Ginrei, and now that she may be alone, Byakuya would take the opportunity to question her.

Walking a few paces, something rather strange and twinkling caught his eye. He bent down and plucked a small, brass ring from the ground – no, it was more of a hoop. He suddenly felt a sting on his finger, and realized there was a pair of small fangs on its side, one hooked loosely in his flesh. This must have been carried by his grandfather, until just under a minute ago when he used shunpo. But why would Ginrei be in possession of such a thing? With a wince, he pulled the hoop away from his finger. One of the fangs now had a single drop of Byakuya's blood clinging to it.

Hisana – and the Sunken Garden, too – would have to wait.

* * *

He was going to the Kuchiki family library; not only were recreational readings there, but in another section of the building was where the histories of noble and well-known families in Soul Society were compiled by Kuchiki family members. The actual histories were kept in the Seireitei Record Building, but it was here that they originated. One man, the Recordkeeper, was in charge of seeing that the exchange of information from here to the Record Building was successful and discreet, and that all information was current. But in other cases, he was the faithful yet scarce employee of the Kuchiki family, doing normal library work as well. And it was he that Byakuya would have to speak to in order to gain the information he needed. Byakuya walked briskly to the Kachikachi Courtyard, in which the main entrance to the library could be found.

The quiet ticking of the gigantic black stone clock permeated the thick calm of the courtyard, bouncing off the cold walls; the clock was placed high above the library entrance at the end of the courtyard. Only members of the Kuchiki family and invited guests, ones with permission, were allowed access to the library, the entrance of which resembled an elegant, grey stone carving set into the wall. It was too easy not to notice the heavy double doors – also that depressing grey colour – which opened responding to a single light rap upon their wooden surfaces.

The pair of Onmitsukidou guards stepped aside, uncrossing their staffs and opening the low iron gate. Byakuya stepped onto the cobbled stone. The courtyard was not as large as it seemed, as a colossal library occupied most of its space, though it still had the ability to dwarf anything. He had stepped out of the warmth of the main corridors behind him, feeling the cold air capture him at once. Now he proceeded forward, further into the shadows of the Kachikachi Courtyard, where the sunlight could barely reach. Even for him, one who had grown up on this estate and who was familiar and comfortable with most places, this courtyard seemed sinister, more so in the day with the moving shadows – he should rather have come in the night.

He knocked on the door, and an eye peered through a camouflaged peephole. The heavy doors opened wide.

"Good afternoon, Kuchiki-sama," said the timid little man, bowing deeply.

"Afternoon, Recordkeeper," said Byakuya.

"Do come inside, my lord."

"Of course." He stepped inside as the Recordkeeper shut both doors with too much effort. "I wish to see the histories."

"If I may ask…"

Byakuya nodded. "Yes?"

"Do you require help with a specific topic?"

"Actually, I do."

"Let us go to the records room, then."

Inside the library, it was quite a warm atmosphere, surprising anyone who thought the library's interior would be worse than outside. Shelves upon shelves of books ran the length of the floor, with alcoves scattered here and there. There were two or three blazing fireplaces in the main alcoves, and all of these objects stood on thick, red carpeting. Many lamps gave the large area light; not too dim, not too bright, natural almost.

But the Recordkeeper led Byakuya down the centre aisle all the way to the last shelf, where a narrow staircase led up to tiny double doors made of stone. These doors opened into an enclosed room cluttered with draws and shelves and cabinets and boxes; all were organized quite neatly, but there were definitely too many. Three plain desks with two chairs each sat amongst the various containers.

"Now, may I be of help, my lord?" asked the Recordkeeper.

"Yes." Byakuya produced the hoop from his pocket. "I found this in a corridor. What do you make of it?"

The Recordkeeper took the hoop from Byakuya. "Ah, I am familiar with this design. This definitely belongs to a member of the noble Fon clan."

"The _Fon_ clan? What it is doing here?"

"As you may know, the members of that clan are highly skilled assassins, executioners, and the like, and it is a requirement that each member joins the Onmitsukidou, otherwise they will be cast off from the clan. Now, having dealt with elite missions and being highly proficient in Hakuda and Hoho, they have no trouble planting trinkets like these in other places.

"Originally, the first person whose blood was spilled on a trinket had to be killed by the trinket's owner. The clan members who had that belief died out a long time ago. Now, in the present, it simply means that you will be expecting a visit from the clan member whom the trinket belongs to."

"So who does this trinket belong to?" asked Byakuya.

"I'm not too sure. The members of this clan are usually named after _stinging_ creatures, a well-known example being the bee. These fangs look much like a spider's, so naturally, the clan member's name will be something similar. But I can tell these don't belong to the clan's head, as that person owns round, simple hoops, without any other attachment. The clan's head will always be a woman called Soifon, and your friend, Shihouin-sama, must be acquainted with her."

_Friend?_ Byakuya swallowed. "Why?"

"Both are from the Onmitsukidou. The head of the Fon clan has a purpose in her life, and that purpose is to serve the head of the Shihouin clan for as long as they are alive. It is quite a stressful operation, as bonds can be formed and severed. Especially in the case of the secretive Fon clan – their clan is made up of ambitious ninjas and ninjas-in-training; it is quite hard to form a good base of trust with such people, you see."

"Then does this hoop mean we'll be expecting a visitor?"

"Yes."

Byakuya frowned and took the trinket. "This is absurd. How will we know when they are coming?"

"Oh, yes, I completely forgot. Forgive me. The number of fangs, stings or patterns on the trinket indicates the number of days after which they shall be arriving."

There were two fangs on the trinket. "Two days."

"That is correct. But keep in mind how long the trinket was here for. Would you like some more information, or would you rather research it on your own, my lord?" The Recordkeeper was bowing again.

"No, thank you, Recordkeeper. I shall be off now." Byakuya turned. "Don't worry, I'll let myself out."

Now to tell – or confront, even – Ginrei about the trinket and their visitor.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Thanks for your reviews, by the way! Appreciate them tons :D**

**Those questions few dare to ask: Who is the owner of the Fon trinket? When will he – or she – make an appearance? Was Ginrei truthful when speaking to his grandson? What will happen in the next chapter, when Byakuya gets better at calligraphy? And will I ever get good at these cliffhanger thingies? Stay tuned for the next episode (chapter)…**

**All right, now I shall tell you this. This is a Romance and Hurt/Comfort story, with the slightest hints of Mystery. Better? And next thing… don't you just love the word 'trivial'? Ahem, sorry. Bear with me, won't you? :P**


	5. Touch

**A/N: Yay ****Chapter 5! I hope this chapter title made you excited as much as I was. :P Sorry if the chapters seem too short – they were never meant to be very long, but who knows? These past five were written a year ago. :o **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. I do not own Bleach. I do not own Bleach. But this plot is mine. :D **

* * *

**Chapter 5: Touch**

* * *

Hisana shifted under the covers, a little frown on her face, pursing her lips and sighing before opening her eyes. Staring at the ceiling, it was surprising how well-rested she was. Never in her life had she slept so peacefully, not a single thing to disturb her, and after two nights of this, she was beginning to feel… almost happy. Her eyelids drooped slightly when she reminded herself that she should not be feeling this way yet, for today was the beginning of only her third day of work at the Kuchiki estate; it was going well _so far_, she thought. As she was about to sidle out of the comfort of her new bed, the door creaked open, and in tiptoed Hanabi, dressed in a musk kimono. She stopped dead, her foot inches off the ground, when she saw a very much awake Hisana staring at her confusedly.

"Um, morning, Hisana-chan," she said innocently, bringing her foot down and trying to look as casual as possible.

"Good morning, Hanabi-chan." Hisana cleared her throat. "Uh… did you only get in now?"

Hanabi bit her lip, looking worried. "Promise you won't tell?"

"Okay."

"_Okay_? That's it?"

"I mean – yes, of course I do, Hanabi-chan."

"Hm, better." The tall woman – acting more like a teenage girl – fell to her knees and crawled up to Hisana's bedside; Hisana twisted and crossed her legs on the covers, so she was a bit further back from but still facing her roommate. "I went out last night with Nikugaki!"

"You did?"

"Yes! Out in Seireitei. It was so lovely."

Hisana rubbed her eye. "Are you allowed to leave the estate without permission?"

"No – we snuck out. It was so daring!" She clasped her hands together, like a young child dreaming of becoming a Shinigami. "We walked right past the guards."

"Walked? Didn't they see you?"

"Nikugaki is a member of Squad Two. He knows Shunpo. You didn't know?" she asked incredulously, after seeing Hisana's surprised expression.

"Not really…"

"Well he is. It was so romantic! I met him outside the dorms, and I hugged him hard. Then he grabbed my arm and we shot off so fast, I thought I was flying. We stopped by a pillar, waited for some dumb guards to go by, and then we were off again. He insisted he was only tired 'cause of the extra weight. We scaled the wall and went into Seireitei, and…"

As Hisana's train of thought took off, Hanabi's chatter seemed to die down. She was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Hanabi – she was infatuated with a man who did not seem to even think of her at all. Then she noticed the unusual braid holding Hanabi's usually free, ginger hair in one piece, along with the usual headbands and clips. _Must be a special occasion. _

"Sorry, Hanabi-chan, but I've got to get going, otherwise I'll be late for the calligraphy lesson with Kuchiki-sama." Only after she said it did Hisana realize she made a big mistake.

"You're teaching _the_ Kuchiki-sama calligraphy?" shrieked Hanabi.

"Shh! People are still asleep."

"You're teaching _the_ Kuchiki-sama calligraphy?" she said in a stage whisper, and gripped Hisana's neatly folded hands.

Hisana sighed. "Yes. But I'm not sure whether he meant it or not."

"How can you not know?" When Hisana was about to reply, Hanabi said: "Save it. Just go there anyway. He might be waiting." She winked.

"No, Hanabi-chan, _no_," said Hisana as sternly as she could. "Stop thinking whatever you're thinking. I need to go get ready."

"Why do you keep calling me Hanabi-_chan_?"

"You told me to!"

"I don't remember that. You must've come up with it on your own, since you're always drifting off. But we're such good friends, so just call me _Hanabi_. 'Kay?"

"Um, sure. You can call me Hisana… if you want, I mean…"

"Great." Hanabi rose and patted Hisana on the knee. "Now go get ready _quickly_, Hisana, otherwise you're gonna be late for the lesson."

"But I just said that now." Hisana was feeling more and more bewildered with each passing second.

Hanabi chuckled. "You dreamer, you! So funny, too. Kuchiki-sama's gonna have a hoot with you."

Hisana rubbed her head. "Right. I'll be in the bathroom, Hanabi."

"Take your time!"

Hisana shut the door behind her. Living with Hanabi was going to be rather interesting, if only she would talk like a normal person, without her exaggerated tone of voice. Hisana's bath was running, steam rising from the gushing water. She shut off the faucet – _This must be technology from the World of the Living!_ – and ran her nimble fingers along the surface of the water; small ripples fanned out wherever she touched. She undressed and slipped into her bath; it was not as hot as she would have liked, for now she had to hurry. And she could not help feeling eager to go to the lesson this morning.

* * *

Hisana dashed along the flower-lined path stretching from the dormitories to the main mansion, through the small forest of trees. Hanabi had shown fear of their imposing appearance, but for Hisana, it was a treat to live near something she adored.

The satchel given to her by Hanabi – hidden from her by Nikugaki – was bumping up and down, its contents rattling. She panted as she finally rounded a corner and saw the familiar Sunken Garden before her. Walking along the corridor, trying to calm down before arriving there, she could not feel his presence, and slid open the door. But she did not expect him to really be there – her spiritual awareness must be worse than she thought.

"Good morning, Kuchiki-sama," she said to his kneeling form, a green haori draped over his shoulders.

"Good morning, Hisana. I did not feel your presence approaching."

"Oh. I didn't feel your presence either… Kuchiki-sama." She could feel the blood creeping to her face.

He turned to examine her with his dark grey eyes. "Please, join me." His hand patted a spot next to him.

She swallowed and made her way to his left side, sitting down nervously. Her pages from yesterday had been left where they were, and so had her two large paintbrushes. Then why had she brought along the satchel, filled with painting supplies? Ah, her head had been in the clouds this morning. Nothing too new, and there was no harm in having a backup.

"So, you want me to teach – I mean, _show_ you traditional calligraphy…"

"Yes, I'd love it if you did, Hisana."

She bit her lip. How should she start? Tell him the easiest way to hold the brush? Perhaps a demonstration? Oh wait, maybe just an introduction first. "Well," she began, "people wonder what calligraphy is. If you say you're doing calligraphy, they think it's just normal handwriting. It's more than just that. The letters are, themselves, different, as they can be illuminated, have different decorations and strokes and many other things. Calligraphy is art, and it's beautiful, attractive to the eye." She looked up at his face. For a moment her eyes locked onto his, and she broke it by looking away, a shy smile on her face. "It can tell a lot about a person, too, like their personality…"

He was smiling lightly. "What will we be learning now?"

Hisana blushed even more than she did after her introduction. "Illuminated letters. It's simple, since we're only going to outline the letters in a certain type of paint."

"Which letters?"

"The whole alphabet. We can do them normally, but nice, big and clear." She picked up the jumbo brush on her left and balanced it on her right shoulder. "You hold the brush like this; on your right shoulder if you're right-handed, and use the shoulder as balance for the brush while painting. As you get used to holding the brush, you don't have to use your shoulder anymore, but I prefer it. Your left hand can rest anywhere in the middle or even near the actual bristles, depending on whether you want rigid lines or flowing ones… I think we can start with flowing ones."

"Like this?" he checked. His form was _almost_ perfect; the brush jutted out at his forearm.

She got up and went around him. She eased his brush up to his shoulder, almost into the crook of his neck. "Yes, exactly like this," she said, even more quietly than her usual soft tone.

He leaned down on his page, and she saw his raven hair falling over his eyes as she stood silently beside him. His lips were parted with focus, and his body maintained its posture as his arms moved the brush with ease. Before he could notice her staring, she blinked hard and resumed her spot next to him, and began with her own letters.

Though it was quiet, she felt oddly comforted. In her determination to help her sister, she had refrained from growing any relationships with other people, in fear of leaving one day and losing a friendship that should have gotten more time, or simply growing too attached to someone. But she was not sure whether she could call this interaction a friendship after only half of a morning spent with this man.

Once again she drifted off, pondering over the aforementioned topic. She did not realize that both alphabets were complete, soft characters spread over the huge sheet before them, until his voice roused her. "How is it?" he asked.

She was smiling down at his letters. It was quite simple, letters in a pattern she had done many times, yet his were different in a charming way, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. "Brilliant," she breathed.

"I would rather say that for yours," he said, but he was not looking at her letters. He was looking at her with deep interest, the smile that seemed to reach her eyes, and was secretly taken aback that she thought his calligraphy was well done, though it was only the alphabet. "The illumination, you said?"

"Oh, yes… Kuchiki-sama." She scooped up a jar of shiny, thick golden paint from inside her satchel, plucking two smaller paintbrushes with it. _Not such a waste of time to have brought along now…_ She handed the jar to him, avoiding his steady gaze; the colour in her cheeks had finally settled, and she was afraid to blush yet again. "You just need to dip a reasonable amount and outline your letters."

"Do you mind showing me first?"

"Of course not, Kuchiki-sama." She swallowed, bending over her letters slowly. She was startled when, after a moment of straight painting down the stalk of the letter, a warm hand covered hers at the sharp turn, gripping the paintbrush she was holding. She felt his light, even breathing on her cheek, and could smell his scent next to her, though she could not decide what it was. His shoulder touched hers so that it felt as though it covered it, and his hand was giving him balance beside her knee. It was not like she could tell, what with her tingling shoulder beneath his, not to mention her arm brushing against his at every curve of the letter. He was not forcing himself upon her, as he still maintained a respectable distance; he was genuinely focusing on the letter being highlighted. Her eyes moving to his face, unintentionally noticing his pale sculpted neck, she saw his lips parted in concentration. They were moving the brush together, as one, and as soon as they had illuminated three letters, he released her hand gently, remaining at her side. He spoke.

"Hisana," he said after a pause, "I would like for you to call me by my first name."

"But, Kuchiki-sa-"

"Please." He turned to look down at her intently. "Address me by my first and given name."

"I…"

"Hisana."

Her name had always been quite average to her, but the way he spoke it made it sound… unique. It was sincere, clear. Now she was feeling more ready to address him as… _But I can't call him by _just_ his name. He's nobility. It might sound so rude. Oh, wait… _"Byakuya-sama," she said slowly. _Did that sound better?_

He looked satisfied. "Thank you. Would you mind continuing to help me with the illuminated letters?"

"I'd be honoured," she said. When he took her hand again, she resisted the urge to jump. He really had meant it when he said "continuing".

_Is this even allowed? He's actually touching one of his employees, not in a hurtful way__, but someone of his status… holding my hand? It would be disrespectful if I told him to leave me alone; it's not inappropriate, I guess. But it would be even worse if someone saw this closeness – like his grandfather. Though I don't mind. In fact, it's… nice – no, it's not supposed to be… Whew, we're on the final letter at last…_

He pulled back, and Hisana felt her buzzing heart calm down, but only slightly. She shakily held out the brush towards him. "Are you confident enough to try without help, Byakuya-sama?" She chose her words carefully.

He nodded once, his expression not betraying anything, and accepted the paintbrush. And then she felt her heart sink; had she offended him or been too blunt?

"So, Hisana, what was my grandfather talking about to you yesterday?" he asked casually, still bent over his letters.

She was amazed at the change of topic. "Captain Kuchiki was giving me an assignment."

"Really? Tell me more."

"Uh… I was asked to paint the Sunken Garden in good detail."

"The Sunken Garden? Did he tell you why?"

Hisana still could not help feeling uneasy; it felt as though he were interrogating her. This could not be the result of his being offended, could it? If it was, she found it quite odd. "No. He just gave me the parchment I have to paint the assignment on."

"Interesting." He paused, thinking. He had illuminated the letters with such ease that Hisana almost forgot what the new topic of conversation was. Before she knew it, he straightened up and set the paintbrush down. "There. All finished."

Hisana studied the letters, a smile forming on her face once again. "You did really well… Byakuya-sama." Using his first name might need some getting-used-to, first. "Was that your first time?"

"For illuminated letters, yes." He looked behind him, as if sensing something. "I'm sorry, Hisana. I must leave you now."

Hisana tried hard to keep from sounding disappointed. "Oh. G-Good day, Byakuya-sama." She thought she sounded disappointed. She stood up at the same time as him and bowed her head.

Byakuya moved to the door. "I'm sorry our lesson had to end so soon. But nonetheless, I enjoyed myself."

Hisana beamed. "I'm glad you did, Byakuya-sama."

Byakuya nodded, a half-smile on his face. Even as he walked away, disturbed air rushing over her briefly, Hisana's lips remained curved upwards at the corners. This man was quite an interesting, mysterious character. His action before, while illuminating the letters, played over and over again in Hisana's mind. She could not decipher the intentions behind it. But then again, he was probably not as dispassionate as he had first seemed. It became clear that Hanabi was not a very good judge of character, especially in how she had referred to him as "_the_", instead of as a person. That, and how she chose Nikugaki as a partner.

And this person – Byakuya, not Nikugaki – was someone that intrigued Hisana. She felt as though she wanted to know more about him, instead of hear about him from other people. From watching his behaviour when around his grandfather, she could tell that the person inside of him was probably completely different to the person on the outside. He had not shown her too much of his character so far, but he had been quite friendly to Hisana. At least she thought as much. She pondered over whether it was safe to call his gesture friendly.

The sun was shining down on her through the opening of the doorway. There was no sign of a clock in this room, but a considerable amount of time had passed since sunrise. She shielded her eyes; in the sun, their violet colour revealed the slightest indigo tint, more prominent around her pupils. The Sunken Garden looked gorgeous, but she only had the permission to paint it from afar. The previous evening, she had tried a few rough sketches while the sun was sinking low, and produced attractive drawings, but there was still something lacking that she could not lay a finger on.

Hisana's thoughts on her assignment raced back to Byakuya's questions. Maybe he appeared to be such a lost soul because his grandfather did not tell him about such small things. She wondered – even further – that if he were ever to ask her a question that was unusual, whether she would be able to tell him with honesty. She felt that she could not call herself honest, deceiving herself into thinking that she might find Rukia, and that the young child would forgive her if she did.

She sighed. Instead of standing here, tripping over her overflowing thoughts with her hand over her eyes, she may as well close the door. After sliding it so with a small _click_, Hisana paced along the doorway's wide length slowly. The young men she had met around Rukongai and in the Academy were loud and arrogant and boisterous and acted in a similar fashion to their companions. This Byakuya Kuchiki was certainly something else.

* * *

**A/N:**

**This was a gremlin of a thing before I edited it. Good I did, huh? I hope you liked it. :)**

**Those questions few dare to ask: Will Hisana's painting come out right? Why does Hanabi love such a *bleepbleepbleep… bleeeeeeep*? Will there be another lesson for us to smile at? Are true characters going to show soon? Are Byakuya and Hisana going to feel like awkward teenagers for another lesson? Stay tuned for Chapter 6, in which Ginrei's shady guest will make a first appearance…**

**Hehe. Thanks for reading! Do give me some feedback – I'm slightly OCD; I love to improve. **


	6. Kumofon

**A/N: Hiya. :) This chapter is… probably going to be your least favourite. But I do like protective Byakuya! Anyway, I'm sorry ****that this was delayed, especially after I returned. But I did give you something of a heads-up – it's mid-year exam time. I am forced to study… *turns away to rip hair out* Let's all pray that SuperSonic Violet passes!  
Yeah, so it might be a while until I update again. You're probably thinking 'Here we go again!' but this time I **_**will**_** be back.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything related to it. Plot and original characters = mine; usual Bleach characters and anything copyright = Tite Kubo's.**

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**Chapter 6: Kumofon**

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Byakuya had been in a good mood since the morning. Of course, it was never very clear when he was, but now when lunchtime was approaching, he was feeling quite elated. It was a feeling he had never felt before in his life; the feeling of… Actually, he could not put a name to it. An interesting fluttering thing going on below his collarbone. The smile that had mirrored hers was still touching his pale face. Even though he had just met her, he felt as though she was different to other people. He would only ever be taken seriously once he was the head of the Kuchiki clan, and even when that happened, he would still not have most of the privileges of most heads for a while… There was no harm in interacting with her, then, and no harm in feeling like this more often. He decided not to let the thoughts on his future powers cloud his mood, which shone just as brightly as the sun outside.

He was inside his grandfather's study – which was in the Seidai Courtyard – among the books and the scrolls covering the wall on the split-level foundation, which was behind the chair of Ginrei's bare, darkwood desk. Portraits of the previous heads of the clan hung between these tall shelves, which reached up to the ceiling. Byakuya stepped down from the planks of the foundation and onto the cream carpet of the main body of the study. The large windows on his left and right let in a few rays of sunlight through the slits between the white curtains. A few chests were placed against the walls, on either side of the large sliding doors, windows, and near the corner of the foundation.

The wide sliding doors opened fully, to reveal Ginrei at the door. "Good afternoon, Byakuya. You should have left the doors open; it feels quite stuffy in here."

Byakuya dipped his head in a small bow and lifted it. "I'll be sure to next time, Grandfather-sama."

"Now, why are you in here?"

"Am I not allowed to enter your study anymore?"

Ginrei chuckled. Secretly, their back-and-forth conversations always amused him, reminding him of the short-tempered boy Byakuya used to be. "I was addressing the fact that we have a visitor. The very same visitor you confronted me about yesterday."

Byakuya frowned. "What does it have to do with me?"

"Our visitor happens to be a very good friend of mine as well as an elder of the Fon clan. To go through so much trouble to alert me of his arrival, surely you'd want to accompany me." Ginrei was always good at finding a reason for everything, though at times it was meant to work out in his favour only.

"Yes, Grandfather-sama," he sighed the words and made in the direction of his grandfather, who had walked outside the study and down the few steps into the Seidai Courtyard. Now they were moving along the way to… the Sunken Garden? Byakuya could not think of a reason for this person to suddenly appear within the estate, without having a proper invitation, and go right to the Sunken Garden. It was literally in the middle of the mansion. Ginrei may have greeted him before, and was now about to drag his grandson into an unwanted meeting… Ah, but the Fon clan was proving to be a sneaky bunch, dropping in to drop in prickly self-invites – Ginrei could have just discovered him standing there, for all Byakuya knew.

_Safer to ask, though._ "How come he is already in the Sunken Garden?" asked Byakuya as he rounded a corner behind his grandfather.

"He was escorted in. I was prepared since you told me of his arrival a day earlier."

Ginrei and Byakuya went all the way from the Seidai Courtyard, near the front of the estate, to the central-west part of the estate where the Sunken Garden was. Their sandals clopped down on the kashi planks, sending echoes through the quiet halls. This made Byakuya wonder where the members of the clan were; the Kuchiki elders were not the type of people who left the estate due to nice weather. They must be in the Kuchiki Family Library.

The grandfather and grandson arrived at the steps leading into the Sunken Garden, and descended down them. Standing near the mirror bearing Squad Two's insignia, was the man called Kumofon.

He was an elder of the Fon clan, chief of the Fifth Unit of the Onmitsukidou dealing with communication. He wore a standard Shinigami shihakusho on his wiry body, tying with an orange obi sash instead of plain white. His hair was trimmed to shoulder-length, and was a greasy charcoal colour with a single stripe of silver-grey hair zooming along from his temple. He had his bangs pulled to the back of his head, out of his face, with a single short string. When he turned around to meet Ginrei and Byakuya, he revealed a sanguine smile that Byakuya instantly disliked. There was something almost ominous about that smile, gouged into his tan, wrinkled face. He lifted his right hand in a greeting salute, and on his middle finger was a gold ring with two spider fangs jutting out at the top. Byakuya also found it strange that the nail on that finger was immensely longer and sharper than his other nails, similar to a dagger.

When Kumofon noticed the Kuchiki heir staring at his finger, he lowered it casually to meet with his other hand behind his back, out of sight. "Greetings, gentlemen," he said in a calm, cool voice that was totally mismatched with the pleasant expression on his face; Byakuya thought wrong that he would splurge with joy.

They came to a stop before Kumofon. "A pleasure it is to see you once again, Kumo," said Ginrei with a nod. When Byakuya said nothing, Ginrei glanced at him and went on. "I don't think you have met my grandson, have you?"

Kumofon's inky little eyes shifted to Byakuya; he grimaced, as Kumofon's eyes were so little and beady that his irises appeared to take up a majority of his eye. "No, I haven't."

"Well then, Byakuya, this is Kumofon, my good friend from the Fon clan." Ginrei gestured to Kumofon.

Byakuya moved only his eyes to Kumofon and kept his head impertinently tilted to the left. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. I have always wanted to meet the esteemed Byakuya Kuchiki," said Kumofon in a polite tone.

Byakuya looked up, just in time to see his grandfather shoot him a chiding look. Ginrei quickly regarded Kumofon once again. "What brings you here, Kumo? It has been quite a while."

"It certainly has. I kept that in mind so I had one of my officers leave a traditional kaigi lying around before I visited." Kumo cocked his head to the side. "Still, I didn't think it would be found."

"Actually, I found it on the floor in this hallway," inserted Byakuya. "Very noticeable with all this sunlight."

"You must have good eyesight to see such a tiny thing." Kumo straightened his head again.

"Thank you," replied Byakuya dryly.

"Mmm. Out of curiosity, where _is_ my trinket?"

Ginrei produced the odd ring – the kaigi – from his pocket. "I figured you might want it back." He held it out.

Kumo took it from him. "Thank you, Kuchiki-san." For a moment he examined it, rubbing its shiny gold surface, squinting with a strange fascination all the while.

"Is something the matter?" asked Ginrei.

"It seems there's been a change to it. Was something spilled on it?" Kumo closed his fingers over the ring and put his hand behind his back.

"Not of my knowledge. Byakuya?"

Byakuya looked up at Ginrei and then at Kumo. "Yes."

"Go on…" encouraged Ginrei.

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. "My blood."

Much to his surprise, Kumo let out a cackle that could make a mod soul shut down. "You're lucky the Fon traditions have changed, Byakuya-san. Otherwise, I'd have to slay you instantly." He went on cackling.

"Haha, without a Zanpakutou?" Byakuya went along, not seeing humour in it at all.

"Like I said before, you have good eyesight, Byakuya-san." Kumo sighed and turned to Ginrei. "So, tell me about your artists, Kuchiki-san."

"What about them?" asked Ginrei.

"How is Nikugaki? I've only seen him a few times around the Squad Two barracks, and once out in Seireitei with a woman."

"Nikugaki is… enthusiastic… Ah, did you say that he was out in Seireitei?"

"Yes I did." Kumo nodded.

"At what time of day?"

"I believe…" Kumo chewed his lip. "I believe it was nighttime."

"Is that even allowed?" interrupted Byakuya. "And how is it possible that Nikugaki left the estate with the guards we have?"

Kumo cocked his head again. "I do not know the rules and regulations of your clan's employees-"

"It's still my _grandfather's_ clan," pointed out Byakuya.

"Grandson!" hissed Ginrei.

Byakuya sighed. "My apologies, Kumofon, please continue," he said half-heartedly.

Kumo, who had been looking expectant, finally looked satisfied. "Of course. Now, I don't know the rules and regulations of the Kuchiki clan, but I'm assuming the freedom of these employees is not always… _free_."

"I see. But if employees could act of their own free will whenever they wished, things would get out of control. Would they not, Kumofon?" Byakuya narrowed his eyes.

"They would, wouldn't they?" Kumo chuckled. "And as for your previous question, all members of Squad Two are meant to be Shunpo practitioners."

"Is Nikugaki in a seated position to have such a great speed?" pressed Byakuya.

"No, I don't think so. But the guards at the entrance are quite dull-sighted. If only you, Byakuya-san, were part of the Onmitsukidou, you could've been employed in their places, and no one would _ever _get past those gates." Kumo ended off his words with a flash of sharp white teeth.

"Why yes, I could have," said Byakuya. Apparently, Kumo could not pick up the sarcasm in Byakuya's tone.

"Indeed." Once again, Kumo turned away from Byakuya to Ginrei. "Is the gallery being run well?"

"Yes, quite well," responded Ginrei.

"Who has taken up the position of assistant-artist? The last one joined my estate – I still feel bad about that, Kuchiki-san."

"No worries, Kumo. A young woman from Rukongai is the new one."

"Oh? A woman? How intriguing."

"Is a woman not capable enough?" muttered Byakuya.

Kumo licked his lips. "Well, such an easy task is _just_ perfect for a woman, no?"

"What are you implying?" questioned Byakuya, closing his eyes and frowning.

"I am-"

"Well then, is your clan not _led_ by a woman?" Byakuya eased out of his frown, secretly pleased with his retort.

Ginrei cleared his throat. "Enough, Byakuya."

Byakuya opened his eyes and looked to the side, clenching his teeth behind his lips, narrowly catching a glimpse of the smirk tugging at the corner of Kumo's lip. He resisted the urge to blast that foul man into the shrubs, resting against the outer wall of the Sunken Garden, with a strong Kido spell. There was a rather awkward moment of silence as each tried to remember what the initial topic had been.

Kumo suddenly lifted his left hand – the bare hand. "Ah, yes, the assistant-artist. How is she taking her job?"

"Quite well," was Ginrei's prim response.

"Oh? Fantastic. I hope she's settled in well, what with Nikugaki's dominance over the gallery…"

"I do hope it's all right, but I have a strong feeling she has been managing on her own."

"Why is that?"

"My daughter says that she's never felt the woman's reiatsu near Nikugaki at all."

Byakuya's eyes flickered up to study Kumo's reaction. For just a second, his liquorice smile vanished and his eyes flashed. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it dissolved casually into the calm, absent expression, his left hand lowering to his side. "_The woman_? Do you not know her name, Kuchiki-san?" asked Kumo incredulously.

"It seems to have slipped my mind… something with a 'V', perhaps…" Ginrei blinked, seemingly coming up at a loose end.

"Hisana," whispered Byakuya.

"What is that, Byakuya-san?" Kumo glanced at Byakuya.

Ginrei stared at Byakuya. "Do continue, grandson." His tone was soft.

"Her name – _the woman_ – is Hisana," replied Byakuya, not picking up his grandfather's expression.

Kumo nodded. "Attractive name."

"Yes it is," agreed Byakuya coldly.

"I hope you're treating her well enough and giving her good jobs to do – before Nikugaki takes them all!" Kumo's eyes popped as he made a feeble attempt at humour. "I take a liking to a girl with such a fair name."

"Yes, she _is_ given important jobs." Byakuya was eager to prove this to Kumo. As far as he was concerned, Nikugaki was worthless compared to Hisana.

Once again, Ginrei tried to stop his grandson, who was oddly talkative today. And disobedient. _Peculiar…_ "I wonder what that job could be."

Byakuya frowned. "You gave her the assignment yourself."

"Assignment?" asked Kumo.

"Yes, an assignment," repeated Byakuya. "She has been requested to paint the Sunken Garden." He finally noticed Ginrei giving him a cold glare; the grandson thought it might be due to his behaviour. He mentally apologized, as he could not contain his feelings of uncertainty towards Kumo. "Of course, it will be a good foundation to start off her new job here," he added.

"Mmm, I'm sure. You know, I'd quite like to meet with her." Kumo shrugged, wrinkling his lips as if the thought had just helplessly occurred to him.

"Why?" piped up Byakuya before Ginrei could speak.

"I have something simple I'd like to be painted, if you don't mind. I've always visualized a painting of Seireitei, with the symbol of the Fon clan pasted nicely on it, in the middle of the picture. It seemed a fitting new addition to our gallery."

"A fascinating idea," commented Ginrei.

"Why yes, Kuchiki-san, it is." Kumo smiled at him. "Now, Byakuya-san, do take me to see the assistant-artist." Kumo motioned for Byakuya to lead the way, but was denied.

"Actually, Hisana is a busy person," said Byakuya quietly. "We shouldn't disturb her."

"An assistant is busy?" asked Kumo with such shock that it could have been false.

He huffed and stared ahead. "No matter what rank you are, it does not change the fact of whether you're busy or not. And Hisana is busy."

"Oh, but I would like to meet her. How important could such an artwork be?" Kumo glanced at Ginrei pleadingly, who was surveying the conversation – now out of his hands and into Byakuya's – neutrally.

"Let us leave that to the artist, Kumofon," argued Byakuya, "and I am afraid that it will not be possible to see her."

"Such a shame. Attachments are attachments." Kumo waved his hand and turned to Ginrei. "Kuchiki-san, do I have permission to meet your artist about my painting?"

"You have my permission, but my squad is under hectic circumstances, so I, myself, cannot introduce you to our assistant-artist," answered Ginrei, looking away at his grandson. "Anything to add, Byakuya?"

Byakuya's brow was furrowed; Namae was gliding along the wooden floor of the corridor, her grey eyes fixed on the exchange taking place in the Sunken Garden just below. She looked away when Byakuya's eyes met hers, and she disappeared beneath the shadowy arch of the next corridor. His attention returning to Ginrei and Kumo, Byakuya replied, "No. Excuse me, Grandfather-sama, Kumofon – I must be going." His haori left a gust of air behind when he turned sharply in the direction of the steps.

Pacing slowly along, Byakuya managed to catch a glimpse through the open sliding door of the room; the same room Hisana was meant to be occupying. Temporarily forgetting Namae, he felt a relieved sigh escape his lips, and was content with moving down the corridor, turning right toward the open path through the forest grounds instead of left towards the hall. On the grounds would be the two towers housing the staff, and if he could even just sense her reiatsu, he would be assured that she was safe.

In truth, Byakuya did not understand this feeling inside of him. The pleasant, flittering feeling in his chest had been stifled upon meeting Kumofon. Now it was replaced by something else. It was as if he had the urge to protect her, namely from Kumo. He was not sure why, but the latter was a strange character – not even of the eccentric kind. Kumo had another agenda that Byakuya had yet to know. Something in his grandfather's eyes told him to take caution, but if he did not know what the threat was, how was he to be careful?

He stepped onto the gravel path leading from one of many of the main mansion's entrances to the grounds. There was no need to trace her reiatsu, for stopping at the end of the path, he had just seen her and another ginger-haired woman disappearing into the women's dormitories. His shoulders relaxed; it must be late afternoon, as the sun was sinking lower, and if she had retired to the dormitories for the evening then there would be no chance of her running into Kumofon.

No matter what, Hisana could not meet this indecipherable man. Without knowing why, Byakuya promised he would not let harm come to the assistant-artist who brought him such peace.

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**A/N:**

**Alrighty, I know there wasn't any Hisana in this chapter, but at least we know more on Byakuya's side. **

**Those questions few dare to ask: Will Hisana meet Kumo? Will Byakuya ever be able to hold back in conversations? Is Ginrei going to be even more awesome in future chapters? Why is Namae 'gliding' past at such a convenient time? How will our favourite pairing reunite for Chapter 7? And what the hell is up with Kumofon's middle finger? O.O Stay tuned…**

**Wooo, you've met Kumofon, the mystery guest. :D He was a completely original idea, by the way. I hope you at least smiled during his and Byakuya's conversation – hehe, I did. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Interesting

**A/N: I know it said in Chapter 6's note that I will definitely return… and I'm sorry for not! Anyway, here's the next chapter after… omw June? Wow, I really have been abandoning this fic. :( **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or anything copyrighted mentioned here. **

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**Chapter 7: Interesting**

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_She was in a warm place that was cold at the same time. The sun was a big smudge in the sky, too bright to discern its circular shape. The clouds were charged with pale yellow and there were scattered blue windows poking through. She beamed to herself, the dark sleeve of her shihakusho flapping in the strong wind. She turned her face upwards, and opened her eyes. Gazing in wonderment like a young child, she found herself standing in mid-air. A smile dawned on her face, lighting up her eyes as she studied her surroundings. Streaks of thin clouds flowed between her fingers, and as she moved her hands, she found the air followed her action and flew in the same direction…_

"Hisana?"

Her eyes flicked open. Looking at the canvas against the wall in front of her, Hisana gave her new painting a once-over; it was a dark silhouette that resembled a Shinigami, standing amongst clouds and sunshine, arms outstretched with air speeding along them, snaking around the silhouette's body and bursting from its fingertips. She turned around, feeling disappointment that her fantasy was not real – only real in that it had become a painting. "Oh, Byakuya-sama, good morning," she said to him, bowing. Raising her head, she felt surprised; he had not been here for the lesson yesterday, even though he had apparently enjoyed their first one the day before. She had thought he would not return.

"Good morning." The corners of his mouth were upturned in a faint smile. "I hope you can forgive me for not attending our lesson yesterday. I was – unfortunately – in charge of a guest of my grandfather's."

"Please do not apologize," she said quickly, her fingers clasping the soft material of the sleeves of her white kimono. "Especially not to me," she added with a flush.

He strode further into the room. "Anyone is worthy of an apology, Hisana. I don't want you to lessen yourself."

Hisana's eyes widened fractionally and jerked from the floor to look at him. For the first time since meeting him, she did not blush when her eyes locked onto his. But she was overjoyed – so much, she felt a happy kind of pressure behind her eyes. Not a single soul had ever said that to her, not even when she was human: that she be treated equally. The silent moment that drifted by felt special. "Thank you, Byakuya-sama," she whispered.

"I see your hair is loose today."

She gave a cry, hands instantly flying up to grip her head. "I – oh no! Forgive me, Byakuya-sama, I completely forgot… I-"

He chuckled. "It looks perfect," he said, calmly interrupting her train of babbling. "I think you look even better with your hair down."

Her hands slipped lamely to her sides, the air leaving her in a tiny sigh. Ah, there it was; the blush had rapidly returned to her cheeks, and possibly the rest of her face, too. She lowered her eyes to the floor again, hoping that she did not still look like a shocked owl. "Thank you… Byakuya-sama," she said again, and could hear how shy she sounded. He may have been able to see her rosy pink blush, but at least he could not hear her heart pounding giddily.

He glanced in the direction of the doorway – someone was approaching. "Perhaps I should leave now; you look busy with your painting," he said distractedly.

"…As you wish, Byakuya-sama." This time, she felt her words wring with disappointment. He was watching the doorway with a frown on his face, as if waiting for something to happen. Surely he could not be so upset that his grandfather was nearing this room, or was it someone else…? She was about to ask him if something was the bother, when he turned to face her again.

"I will see you tomorrow, then." He started across the room, walking quickly, and was almost out of the door when a man suddenly appeared before him. Hisana gasped.

"Byakuya-san!" His voice was like a serpent, and sent shivers up her spine. "I almost lost you there – it's a good thing I am familiar with your reiatsu, now."

"Indeed, Kumofon." Byakuya took a step back into the room, blocking the open space between the sliding door and the doorframe. "Shall we move to the Seidai Courtyard? My grandfather has been working since the waking hours. We should give him some well-deserved company."

Kumofon cocked his head to the side, peering past Byakuya's shoulder and at the blushing, petite woman by the wall. "And who might this wonder be?"

"This wonder is the assistant-artist. She is incredibly busy with a painting at the moment." Byakuya looked over his shoulder and back into the room, his eyes piercing her. "You would rather be left alone, correct, Hisana?"

Hisana frowned. He had been talking so naturally to her, so… normally, and now he was speaking to her as though she was a noblewoman. How strange. "Oh… I don't mind, Byakuya-sama. I'd rather not inconvenience… you and your guest." Her eyes returned to the ground respectfully, but she did not fail to see the dismayed expression on his face. Was he upset that she was still present? Was she making herself a burden? Had she been too rude? She swallowed a lump in her throat as the worst possibilities came to mind.

"Ah, then I would be thrilled to enter!" exclaimed Kumofon, and Hisana saw him fully when he grasped the sliding door and flung it open so quickly that Byakuya's hair lifted. His hair was oily and up to his shoulders, a grey streak running down the length right from his temple, bangs tied behind his head; and his skin was akin to a sun-dried tomato – wrinkled and dull red, perhaps a tint of light brown. The obi of his shihakusho was bright orange, and when he held his right hand up in greeting, Hisana cringed at the length of the nail on his middle-finger, upon which sat a ring with two odd pincers.

Byakuya huffed. "Kumofon, my grandfather-"

"Kuchiki-san is perfectly able to wait. Just a few minutes won't make a difference to the large hours he has been working so far. Wouldn't you agree, Byakuya-san?"

Byakuya massaged his temples. "I would rather not take any chances."

Kumofon smiled brightly. "Then feel free to go on without me. I'm able to catch up."

For a moment, Byakuya stared doubtfully between Hisana and Kumofon, as if he were arguing with himself. Hisana's fingers, clasped in front of her chest, fidgeted nervously as Byakuya's dark grey eyes came to a rest on her. Byakuya cleared his throat softly, angling his head to glance with a deadpan look at Kumofon. "I would rather not be rude. This is Hisana, the assistant-artist. Hisana, this is Kumofon, a guest of my grandfather's."

Kumofon surprised her by snatching her hand in both of his, shaking it enthusiastically. "It's certainly a pleasure, little dear. More than a pleasure, even. Call me Kumo." He grinned into her face, earning a weak but confused smile from Hisana. Suddenly, with the energy of a hungry dog chasing after a bone, he looked up at the piece she had been painting and began talking rapidly. "Interesting, that painting. Wonderful colours. Might there be symbolism in it? Interesting, indeed. Your technique is beautiful; I'm quite interested by it. Did you find it interesting, girl? You must have…"

"I'm sure all of Hisana's work is very _interesting_, Kumofon," droned Byakuya.

Hisana fiddled with her sleeve, glancing between the two Shinigami. "Uh… it _was _interesting, I suppose…"

"There we go!" cheered Kumo with affected delight. "Nice to see an artist interested in what she does. Shows that the artist cares. Since you seem so dedicated to your work, would you be interested in painting something for me?" Eyes creased with his stretched grin, he pressed a hand to the small of Hisana's back and began to steer her towards the door. "Perhaps we can discuss this-"

Byakuya started. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"We have business to discuss." Kumo waved him off, and began to half-push a bewildered Hisana with him.

She frowned up at him, trying to halt them, but he kept on moving her forward. "Kumo-san," she protested, whipping her head around wildly to try and look at him. What _was_ he doing – and why was she literally being dragged into it? Her instinctive feeling was to resist, not go with him. "I-"

"Never worry, Hisana. The Fon estate will welcome you warmly." Kumo smiled and ruffled her hair. Just as they got to the doorway, he looked over his shoulder to bid Byakuya farewell – but found himself staring at empty space. A frown wrinkling his forehead, he glanced back at Hisana… and found that she too was not where she was a moment ago. Spinning around in confusion, he found Byakuya standing on the other side of the room, clutching Hisana's small hand in his, but having angled her so that he was partly concealing her. Kumo quickly assumed an unbothered air, smiling sweetly. "Ah, your Shunpo abilities are certainly a marvel, Byakuya-san."

"Indeed." His tone was clipped, expression plain. "Kumofon, my advice to you is that before trying to enter into deals of sorts with employees that are not yours, consult their employers first."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"It would be wise if you did. Now, if we can leave Hisana to complete her work…"

Kumo nodded curtly. "Of course. Your grandfather…"

"Start ahead to the Seidai Courtyard; I will catch up."

Another nod and Kumo left the room, whistling a cheerful tune as he went down the corridor. Hisana watched him go with large eyes before peering up at Byakuya, whose tense frame visibly relaxed – but he did not release his hold on her hand; her own one was tingling under his touch, her heartbeat picking up ever so slightly. He turned to her, a gently concerned expression entering his face, and she hoped he did not notice how her breath caught in her chest as she met his grey eyes with her violet pair.

"Hisana," he began, "forgive me. I should not have let him near you, or offend you in such a way…"

"Please, Byakuya-sama, do not worry yourself with me," she said softly, surprising herself by not stuttering. "I'm sure he meant no harm."

His expression was a worried one. "I hope you are right – I have an uncomfortable feeling towards him. I cannot be sure of what it is, but… promise me that you will stay away from him."

"I…" She could not help being taken aback. "What if he approaches me?"

Byakuya's hold on her hand tightened, but it was still very gentle, not hurting her little fingers at all. She knew that she should not, but she could not help liking the feeling of his hand around hers. "Then you will tell him that your orders are not to interact with any… others," he finished awkwardly. "Nobody outside of the Kuchiki family. Will you promise to be cautious? Not get involved with anything to do with him?"

Hisana swallowed when she saw the pleading tint to his eyes, but nodded quickly. "Yes, Byakuya-sama. I promise."

He sighed with relief, slowly releasing her hand. "Thank you. I suppose I'll be seeing you tomorrow, for our lesson?"

She smiled, flexing her fingers beneath the draping sleeve of her kimono. "If that is your wish, Byakuya-sama."

He returned her smile with a light one of his own. "It is." As he turned to make his exit, he paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "And Hisana?"

"Yes, Byakuya-sama?"

"Wear your hair loose more often. It's very becoming."

Hisana's eyes widened as he sped off with his rapid Shunpo, vanishing before her. After a few moments of muted awe, her face broke out into a beam, cheeks flushing spiritedly. She knew perfectly well that it might be improper, but the compliment seemed to brighten her mood, and a little laugh escaped her lips as she went back up to the canvas upon which her _interesting_ painting sat, flexing the tingling fingers of the hand he had held so softly. She forgot all about the peculiar encounter with Kumofon, and was only able to think of the fascinating heir to the Kuchiki estate.

"He is a very _interesting_ man," she noted to herself, swerving the paintbrush over the paper.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Cuteness! And Kumofon is seriously odd. Like, I'm the one who wrote him and made him like that, and I'm still freaked out by his oddnessnessness. Oh well, whatcha gonna do? Point and laugh at him, that's what. Moving on… thanks for reading! And for the awesome reviews, alerts etc. I appreciate them tons. :) **


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